


Three Word Lullaby

by Molnija



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (I'm not kidding this is gonna be so cheesy you guys), (what prefecture is this Karasuno even located in? well who knows), Akaashi pov, Alternate Universe - Music, Cheese, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Geographical Inaccuracies, Humor, I'll only tag the most important ones because there's a lot of 'em, M/M, Slow Build, Tags will be updated as the story progresses, i guess i should tag that, iwakage is a thing but it somehow didn't turn as prominent as i wanted it to be, lots and lots of space imagery, the summary is a lie it all happens out of pure spite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 221,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8873794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molnija/pseuds/Molnija
Summary: When Oikawa Tooru sings, the world goes quiet.Ever since being accepted into the Musical Academy of Karasuno, Keiji’s life has been all work and no free time but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. This is what he wanted after all. Still, joining the choir and piling even more practice on himself hasn’t been one of his brighter moments.But how could he have not? If it means getting to sing with Oikawa, he can endure it. Because in the end all he wants is for people to listen, and if there’s anyone who can teach him how to make his voice heard, it’s him.





	1. Drive To You

**Author's Note:**

> me: I won't start another multichapter fic before I finish teoib  
> also me: oh fuck I'm having a lot of feelings over this choir AU I keep imagining I better write it down
> 
> when have I ever done what I said I would. that doesn't mean teoib's not gonna be finished, just that it might take longer ... or maybe not; this one's probably gonna update very irregularly because I'm mostly writing it on my phone and then fixing it up on my laptop. **(suddenly, a cut-in from the future: hahahahahahahAHAHAHAHAHAHA)** also I'm basically making this up as I go along. the only thing I do know is gonna happen will not take place for a long time ... oh god
> 
> all of the chapters are titled after fictional songs from this story. I wanted to use actual song names but I also wanted to use a very particular one that's gonna appear but iNCONSISTENCY IS MY WORST ENEMY so here we are ... °-°)/
> 
> literally all I want from life are choir AUs tbh. where are the choir AUs?? do I have to do everything myself???? there's not even a tag for it! why isN'T IT I as a Choir Person am very mad about that.  
> btw idk shit about male choirs since we were exclusively female by accident but I'm trying my best here ;A;
> 
> can I write anything other than Akaoi? probably. do I want to? ... well I do have that Iwadai oneshot I need to finish ... uhm. honestly tho, writing Akaoi brings me so much joy ... I love these boys
> 
> I'm not sure which ships are gonna be in this yet so it's basically a surprise bag, just in written form. I guess that's something. //shrugs
> 
> //e: why did nobody tell me there was a typo in the desc I feel like a fool ;____; welp it's fixed now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all the lyrics are my own ... I'm cheating with these ones, they're from my lyrical cover of Thorn In You that I still haven't finished the video for. uhm.
> 
> it's 4am end me
> 
> //e: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9b_nm3mQ7E4 there it is, if you wanna know what the lines sound like skip to 2:25 even tho I am most certainly no Oikawa Tooru. considering that I'm a girl, that's probably a given.

_What is certain is that singing is not merely modulating a song by means of the voice: we sing and we celebrate the beauty that we can grow and live every day. If you want to sing and give emotions to those who are listening, you must have something to tell through your singing; you have to use singing like an instrument to tell something._

       — Andrea Bocelli

 

* * *

 

He quickly skims over the directions on his phone again before he steps in front of the train station, the air too cold for April but not unpleasant, and for the first time feels like something is about to change.

He’s been fairly apathetic to the news at first, not because he wasn’t happy but it had taken a while for the realisation to settle in that he’ll really be going to Karasuno. Until just now it felt like a dream he’s about to wake up from any second, but this place is new and unfamiliar and real and he _loves_ it.

This is a dream come true, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, it’s a stepping stone to a shining future but at the same time so much more. He’s not stupid enough to think it’s going to be easy, but when he applied he didn’t go for the easiest. He went for the best. Even if that meant moving across the country on his own.

Well, not completely on his own.

“Akaashi! Over here!”

The voice calling out to him is a small beacon of familiarity and he can’t help but smile when his eyes scan the entrance hall and land on Bokuto, who is waving frantically with a huge grin on his face. He’s as unmissable as ever, loud and bright, and it’s contagious – Bokuto could make the most stoic person laugh.

Keiji quickly paces through the crowd and soon enough he’s wrapped in a tight hug. Maybe a little _too_ tight.

“Bokuto-san …” he forces out through the strong arms crushing him. “I can’t breathe …”

He’s immediately let go, only to receive a hard slap on the shoulder. “I always knew you’d make it here! There’s so much I wanna show you, oh my god!”

Keiji has missed him a lot. He might have only been on the same high school as him for two years but in that short time, Bokuto has firmly planted himself right in the middle of his life, and not just because he thought the violin and the drums would make a great combo. Outside of his family, he’s the best friend Keiji has, and he silently thanks social media for existing and allowing them to stay in contact even when Bokuto came to Karasuno.

He’s not the reason Keiji applied though. He would have done that even if it had meant going where nobody even knows his name.

Bokuto throws an arm around his shoulders and guides him through the crowd to their gate. Coming to the station by bus was fairly simple, but he has to admit he’s grateful to have someone help him navigate the really convoluted train system. Keiji trusts his own ability to not get lost; that still doesn’t mean he has to take any chances.

“So! Are you excited? You have to be!” Bokuto’s grin is not faltering a bit and Keiji lets himself be swept away by his joy – it can be exhausting, sure, but not as much as one would think, and after not being around him for a year it’s a good change of pace. Most of his other friends from high school are rather quiet.

“Definitely. I’ve wanted this for so long, it’s still hard to believe I actually did it.”

They scan their tickets and Keiji quickly checks that they’re on gate 5 as the directions on the school website have said.

“It’s gonna be so cool! Ooh, you need to join some clubs, too … How about the choir? Or the orchestra? Or the big band. Or …” Bokuto sits down on one of the few free benches and stares up at Keiji with sparkling eyes. “Or my band! We don’t really need more people but you’re always welcome.”

Right, he remembers; Bokuto has formed his own band with a beautiful bassist of a girl, a guy with wild black hair, and the latter one’s friend who’s a first year now like Keiji but not going to Karasuno. He’s sent him some audio files before and Keiji still isn’t exactly sure what genre they’re going for. Punk, perhaps? But cheesier? With terrible lyrics. He’s not sold on it. “We’ll see about that. For now I’m most concerned with getting everything important together.”

A train comes to a stop in front of them and they enter it, sitting down across each other on a group of four seats. Bokuto’s basically jumping up and down now. “I can help you with that! And I’m sure the other guys can too. It’s super confusing at first but you’ll get it soon enough, the hard part is actually finding your classes. The campus is so huge! It’s really cool!”

He wants to say, _I know, I’ve visited it before_ , but doesn’t and just lets his friend ramble on. He’s always been better at listening.

“But like, the cafeteria is super good, you need to try their pork buns and the _cupcakes_ , oh god the cupcakes … We wrote a song about the cupcakes, have I shown you?”

“Yes,” Keiji lies. No offense to Bokuto, but if that one has any lines near _I wish I had a car tire / so I could fix my car and drive to you_ he doesn’t want to come anywhere near it. Considering it’s Bokuto, it probably does. Maybe he should join the band and take over their lyrics, not that it’s his strong suit either.

(Sometimes he hurts when he thinks about the lost potential of that song. Musically it’s not half bad and wild hair guy has a nice enough voice.)

“Look, look!” Bokuto says and points out of the window at a forest they’re passing by. “That’s where we had our first gig! There’s kind of a hotel in that forest and we got to play there. It’s not big but it was still awesome!”

Keiji’s mind immediately goes to a nice, traditional wooden cabin with German influences, maybe, and it’s hard to imagine a band like Bokuto’s would be wanted there. But maybe he just has the wrong idea about it. He’ll have to show him eventually.

The train ride passes fast with Bokuto pointing out all sorts of things, from factories in the distance over stations to one particular electricity wire on which, allegedly, an owl was sitting on his birthday. It’s relaxed and exactly what he needs to not get nervous, even if he finds it difficult to focus for too long. He’s gotten a surprising amount of sleep, but the sheer novelty of everything is a little overwhelming. That’s something he’ll get used to quickly, he supposes.

“Musical Academy of Karasuno,” the metallic voice of the announcer echoes through the train and Keiji takes a deep breath.

“There we go,” Bokuto says and jumps up.

_There we go indeed._

 

* * *

 

Most of the entrance ceremony passes in a blur.

Now that he’s alone he feels … Not exactly anxious, but nervous nonetheless, hearing what the director has to say but not listening. He hopes it’s not too important, most of it seems to be a history lesson on the school. Bokuto said he fell asleep halfway in last year.

They’re in a rather small auditorium and some of the seats aren’t taken. It makes him remember again how lucky he is for having been accepted – no, not lucky, he didn’t get in by luck but by his own skill. He spent his third high school year working and studying and practicing, practicing so much he came close to hating his instruments, but it was all worth it. He’s here now.

At Karasuno.

Keiji catches some of what the director is saying, something about how the Musical Academy of Karasuno is the most prestigious music school in all of Japan and how many of its alumni have gone on to become famous in their fields. He knows that already, they all do, so why are they going over it again? Needless bragging?

They deserve it though. There’s a reason Karasuno is so hard to get into.

Someone nudges his arm and Keiji turns his head, facing a boy with a blond undercut and bright eyes that remind him of Bokuto. “Hey!” he whispers. “I’ve seen you before.”

Keiji blinks, trying to remember this person but he’s not able to. If they’ve met, he must have forgotten it, which doesn’t usually happen.

Before he can inquire, the boy says, “You’ve been on Fukurodani’s choir, right? I saw your solo last year. I knew you looked familiar!”

Okay, that explains a lot. The only solo he ever had – and afterward he was told that it had been average at best. He didn’t think anyone would remember it, especially not anyone good enough to be here. “Yes.”

“Freaky coincidence, huh?”

He wouldn’t call it ‘freaky’, but it certainly is a coincidence.

“I’m Terushima Yuuji,” the boy whispers and winks at him as if they were old friends. Yes, in some way, he’s really reminded of Bokuto.

“Akaashi Keiji,” he answers and smiles a little before both of them turn their attention back to the screen, or try to at least.

Fukurodani Academy isn’t a musical school, instead it’s more focused on sports, but the choir is still fairly renowned. It was one of the reasons Keiji chose to sing there instead of play in the orchestra. Admittedly his skills on his instruments are better than his voice but he thought that if he ever wanted anyone to notice him, it would be there.

In the end, the reason he got admitted to Karasuno were the videos he sent of him playing the violin and the piano though. It kind of makes him regret those three years he spent slaving away singing the background vocals most of the time.

But if that one time he actually got his second in the spotlight at least wasn’t completely forgettable, that’s something, he guesses.

He sits and watches for a while, thinking of nothing in particular, when they finally stop talking and start getting to the musical acts.

As expected, the orchestra is absolutely phenomenal. It’s not the only one they have but apparently their biggest and most experienced, and it shows – they play carefully and with a level of heart and emotion shining through their polished skill that immediately makes Keiji doubt his own abilities.

(He sets himself a mental goal of getting into that specific orchestra by his third year if he decides to follow that path.)

Next up is a really modern dancing group, accompanied by an electronic but kind of romantic tune that, according to the redheaded girl announcing them, has been composed by one of their most well-known third years. Of course it has been. On a scale like this, if you really want to impress you create your own music.

Then, the choir. The mixed choir at least, there are others that are exclusively male and female respectively as well as one that focuses on classical music, but the program on their website didn’t speak about them so they’re probably not performing.

Of course, they’re incredible. The song is interesting, kind of dark but with a hopeful tinge to it, fitting for a fantasy movie, perhaps. Their voices blend well and nobody is too loud or too quiet, their sound resonates through the auditorium with ease, and most importantly they seem effortless. Keiji has heard many choirs over the years and some of the better ones were stilted, skilled but too practical, trading feeling for objective perfection. This one is nothing like that.

He doesn’t recognise the song but thinks it’s probably another original by someone from the school, but their choreography seems vaguely familiar, as if they’d woven parts of other pieces in there. It’s exhilarating but not exhausting, even if it must be hard to maintain their composure and breathing like that. At Fukurodani they were mostly standing around.

Then one boy with wavy brown hair steps forward and Keiji sits up straight when he hears his first note.

“ _Maybe someday you’ll see, but / maybe someday you’ll be what / I could never become to follow your path down the river._ ”

It’s not the most perfect voice he’s ever heard. Is it still beautiful? Absolutely, and it sounds unlike anything else, but it’s not flawless. In fact, there were a few people at Fukurodani he thought to be better.

And yet.

“ _Maybe someday we’ll have what / maybe someday they left / all those pieces that when put together remind._ ”

It’s only when the soloist disappears back into the crowd that Keiji realises he’s been holding his breath.

He slowly breathes out again, sinking back into his seat.

“He’s great, isn’t he?” Terushima whispers. “Makes you want to listen. It’s captivating.”

 _Captivating_. That’s the word that seems to fit him the most. In just six verses he wrapped Keiji up in his world, to the point where even his own breathing has seemed too loud.

He had to listen.

“Who is he?” Keiji asks. He knows about the choirs but hasn’t bothered listening to them too much, since he hasn’t planned on joining any, so he doesn’t know much about their singers. Still, he thinks he should remember someone like that.

“Oikawa Tooru. He’s a second year. Pretty famous too, at least around here.” When Keiji gives him a surprised look, Terushima laughs quietly. “I live nearby so I hear a lot of stuff.”

Oikawa Tooru, huh. The name doesn’t ring any bells at all. Well, it certainly will now; he should google him when he has the chance.

 _That’s Karasuno for you_ , he thinks.

 

* * *

 

Unlike most people, Keiji is lucky enough to have connections, namely one of his uncles owning an apartment complex thirty minutes from the school. Staying in the dorms of Karasuno would have been an option but they’re pretty expensive, even more so than the school itself. He’s definitely going to get a job to pay for it and not having to worry about one more bill will help him greatly.

The apartment that is now his looks barren and impersonal. It’s small but big enough – there’s a couch that can be built into a bed, an old TV, a tiny but clean kitchen, and a bathroom that probably can’t fit more than one person in at a time.

He likes it. He can make this his own.

For now he’s happy to drop his huge sports bag at a corner and let himself flop onto the sofa though. He sighs contently at the peaceful, silent atmosphere in the room and takes a few minutes before he sits up again, gets his laptop out of his smaller bag, and starts trying to figure out the online services of the school.

He finds his schedule fairly soon – as expected it looks unforgiving to say the least. Karasuno, as its name already implies, is less of a university and more of an actual music _school_ , so they have less freedom. He doesn’t particularly mind it, although he would have preferred to not have any 8 AM classes. According to Bokuto, he’ll have a lot more choices open once he’s survived his first year though.

It’s not required but advised to join any clubs during first year, but Keiji doesn’t know whether he’ll do it. Technically he probably should, both to find friends and to define his focus; still, with that amount of classes he might just be better off sitting this one out. He’ll see about that.

While he’s here he decides to google Oikawa. His voice still plays in the back of his mind, he isn’t really bothered by it but it annoys him not to have known him before. Sure enough, he shows up online, but there’s not too much about him.

His name is mentioned on the official website of the choir, of course, and a local newspaper has written a short article about him lately. _Karasuno’s Shining Star_ , the headline reads. The article itself isn’t too interesting though – all Keiji finds out is that he used to go to Aoba Johsai, which he has never heard about, and has sung in choir since his first year of elementary school. Apparently he also got a small musical role last month, but nothing worth mentioning, really.

It’s odd, Keiji thinks. Someone like that would seem to draw the masses to him. Terushima said he’s popular, too. Maybe he just meant in the school itself?

He closes his laptop and drops onto the couch again, suddenly exhausted. It’s been a long day. He still has to unpack – the most important things at least – and tomorrow he’ll be up by six. Today hasn’t been much better. He’d been hoping to get some sleep on the bus but a really loud toddler constantly screaming and laughing even louder than the music through his headphones made that impossible. In between that, the train ride with Bokuto, and the kind of tedious entrance ceremony, rest has had no place. He deserves it now.

He’ll just close his eyes for a bit before he’ll set his alarm and make something to eat and get his clothes for tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

He’s woken up by his phone ringing and realises quickly that the sun has risen again.

_Oh no._

He shoots up quickly – too quickly, he notices when the world starts spinning around him – and grabs his phone from the coffee table, breathing a sigh of relief when the time reads 5:57 AM. A quick glance to the caller also reveals why.

“Morning, mom,” he yawns after picking up.

There’s a giggle on the other side. “I knew it. You fell asleep, didn’t you?”

He really isn’t in the mood for this _I told you so_ conversation, because she did tell him so, repeatedly. “No, I didn’t.”

“Is that so,” his mother asks, not sounding too convinced. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to be late on your first day, so better safe than sorry.”

“You’re literally on the other side of the country, stop mothering me,” Keiji answers slowly while getting up. He knows better than to lay down again.

“I _am_ your mother, what do you expect?”

He’s still in doubt of that. No way he’s the son of a morning person.

 

* * *

 

He did eventually thank his mother for checking on him, as it means he’s not actually going to sleep in on his first day. Also next time he so much as thinks about napping, he’ll set an alarm immediately.

His first class would have been Introduction to Musical Theory, but today he and the other equally as tired looking first years are being shown the school instead. There’s a campus app he really appreciates having, because this is most certainly going to be a challenge. The school grounds are huge, the rooms and buildings numbered in the most confusing ways, and there’s so much to see he doubts he’ll be able to take it all in in his first year.

At least the cafeteria is very easy to find. He has to try those cupcakes Bokuto wrote a song about someday. And the pork buns. And everything else.

They’re taking a short break in one of the big instrument rooms. It’s like an entire classroom has been transformed to hold a ridiculous number of woodwinds, and that’s only what he can see through the glass doors of some of the closets.

“Yo, Akaashi!” someone says and appears in front of him not a second after. Terushima looks awake. Too awake. Keiji is grateful to have an acquaintance already but if he’s just found himself a second Bokuto, he can kiss his sanity goodbye. “You’re gonna join the choir, right?”

Of course he’d ask that. Keiji sighs. “Probably not. I’m more of an instrument person anyway.”

“Really? What do you play?” Terushima asks but looks kind of disappointed. He can’t really understand why. It’s not like he’s that good to begin with.

“Mainly the violin and the piano, but I’m decent with the flute too.” He has his middle school self to thank for the second one. In hindsight, his pretentious (though thankfully short) chuunibyou phase brought him at least one more instrument to play. He really does like the piano, even if he only started it because he wanted to look sophisticated. Memories he both would like to forget and looks back at kind of fondly. “What about you?”

“Oh, I can’t play any instruments, but I’m pretty good at electronic stuff.” Terushima laughs, loud and clear, and Keiji notices he has a tongue piercing. He definitely seems like the type. Two years ago Bokuto wanted one and forced him to go with him, only to chicken out at the last second and just buy ice cream instead. Twice. “I’m a good singer too! I might join a choir, so I was hoping to have someone there I’ve already talked to, y’know?”

Keiji thinks he probably won’t need too much time to make friends, but he’s happy nonetheless. Maybe they’ll have some classes together. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ll have the time to join a club this year anyway,” he says with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you classical instruments guys have it hard, no matter which focus.” Terushima pulls out his phone, his gaze flying over something on the screen before he flips it over to show Keiji his schedule. It’s not significantly smaller, but he does have two or three less courses. He also doesn’t think they share any, sadly.

He’s also kind of jealous at Terushima’s Thursday. He wishes he had any days starting at 2 PM like that.

Keiji shows him his schedule in return and Terushima winces, shooting him a pitiful luck. “Ouch, that Monday. Good luck, man.”

“What better way to start off the week than eight to six straight, huh,” Keiji mutters.

“Alright, moving on!” their guide – the second year who announced the dance group, Misaki Hana – calls, clapping her hands.

Honestly, Keiji would prefer if they just got over it and started school properly. He has some more information meetings tomorrow, but that’s not what he’s here for, even if it’s important.

He supresses a yawn before following the group, Terushima occasionally pointing out people and places beside him. At least he knows who to turn to when he’s lost. Terushima seems like a more reliable person than Bokuto, despite their similarities. No offense to Bokuto.

They come to a halt in front of a large music room with chairs standing in a half circle and a few people talking and looking at papers, probably sheet music. When they notice them, they look up and wave.

To his surprise he sees Bokuto, talking to none other than Oikawa.

“Hey there,” Oikawa says with a grin on his face. “Showing the first years around?”

“Someone has to,” Misaki answers but laughs. He doesn’t think she dislikes it as much as her words would suggest.

When Bokuto spots him, his face lights up. Keiji automatically disappears a little deeper into the crowd so that he’ll stop gesturing around like crazy. It doesn’t seem to help. _People are staring, Bokuto-san._

“Well, if any of you want to join the choir, we always need people.”

Misaki waves him off nonchalantly. “They’ve only just come here, let them settle in before you try to recruit them.”

Keiji decides he likes her.

 

* * *

 

“So? Are you doing it?” Terushima asks in between bites. Keiji’s not entirely sure where he got that apple from but not about to ask. They’re sitting outside, Terushima on a low wall and Keiji on a bench, and it’s cold but still nice.

“Doing what?”

“Joining the choir.”

Keiji sighs. “I already told you I most likely won’t.”

Terushima grins at him as if he knows something Keiji doesn’t. “Well, yeah, but considering how you looked during Oikawa’s performance yesterday … And that spiky-haired guy with him looked like he knew you.”

“Don’t remind me.” He silently hoped for nobody to have noticed, but of course they have. Bokuto’s not really good at being subtle, especially if he’s not trying.

“I don’t think he’s in the choir but if they’re friends … Maybe that’s a sign.”

“How should that possibly be a sign?”

Terushima shrugs. “Gut feeling.”

Keiji’s not really sure whether he trusts Terushima’s gut feeling.

Admittedly, he _is_ thinking about yesterday again. If he manages to get close to Oikawa in some way he might have some tips for him. One of the things people have always complained about especially with his singing is that it’s not captivating enough, however on earth he can fix that. Maybe Oikawa knows. Heck, he’s probably the one most likely to know, if that performance was any indication. Unless he’s some kind of natural genius.

But with Bokuto and Oikawa at least getting along, he won’t have to join the choir for that. He’ll just be involuntarily pulled into Bokuto’s friend circle again like in high school and go from there. Or maybe he doesn’t even need it.

Although the thought to sing with a choir as good as this one is tempting – but this is Karasuno, all of their music clubs are good.

“I’m just saying, y’know,” Terushima says and raises his eyebrows. “Give it a try at least. I mean, you can try out for any club this and next week. I’ve heard they practice on Mondays, at six fifteen. PM.”

Mondays? Oh god, no way, there goes that plan. He shakes his head.

“Either way, I’m definitely going. I mean, you _could_ come with me, just one time, to test it out …”

Terushima really is persistent, isn’t he? Keiji has the distinct feeling that he won’t let him off the hook. He sighs deeply. “Okay, fine. But only once.”

Once won’t kill him. If he goes once, he can say he’s tried it and maybe then Terushima will stop talking about it.

Once could be fun, even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pros of making things up as I go: Akaashi/Terushima friendship is something I didn't know I needed until I accidentally wrote it. also Misaki Hana.


	2. Crystalline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to record what the song parts sound like in my head but now it's almost 3am again and I'll just wake everyone up so. uh. work your imagination or something?? I'm sorry ;w;
> 
> as for voices / parts, Akaashi's a baritone, Oikawa's a tenor, and I'm not sure about Terushima yet tbh. I just know he's a really good rapper. look at him and tell me he wouldn't be. probably a baritone too? hm. well, I'll need to figure it out eventually
> 
> (speaking of "well" I feel like I'm using to many "well"s. is it just me??)
> 
> also I hate this multi-paragraph quotation rule. it's not like this in German, we only have quotation marks at the very beginning and the very end, which makes so much more sense, and it ALWAYS confuses me when I write it in English. aaaaagh
> 
> the choir atmosphere & stuff is based on my own school choir btw, although it'll get a lot less forgiving as time goes on. not that ours was forgiving. I was literally told one time that I had to choose between quitting choir altogether and not going on a one-week trip to France with my French class? like???? we only had weekly rehearsals, it's not like I would have missed anything too important?????? our teacher was strange sometimes. bUT nobody wants to hear my choir stories so! on to the story!

On his first Saturday after starting school, Keiji comes to three conclusions.

First, everybody here is serious about music. It’s a given, obviously, but just saying it is different from seeing it happen. They’re nice enough and it’s good to have many people with similar interests around rather than those who just kind of do it, but he’ll have to work his butt off to keep up.

Second and subsequently, joining the choir for real will probably be impossible if he values his sanity. The stories he’s heard of just how hard it is didn’t really encourage him either.

But third, he’s still looking forward to Monday. His point still stands, once won’t kill him, and he’ll try and take as much away from it as he possibly can.

Right now he’s happy with just lying on his couch and reading through some of his new sheet music. Thankfully there’s one piece he’s played parts of on his flute before, which will help him remember the notes if nothing else, even though this time it’s for the piano. Another one sounds like it will be fun, but difficult, with a frankly unfair amount of key changes and some really nasty sliding notes. The end result could be either wonderful or terrible depending on the player. He definitely won’t let it become the latter in what little time he has until it’s supposed to be finished.

But most importantly, even with the workload and level they’re on, so far it’s been fun. For the first time in ages he feels like he’s being challenged, and he’s up to take it.

Bokuto has been texting him nonstop this week. He’s probably even more excited than Keiji even though they haven’t talked much in person. Their schedules seem to clash in that regard and they mostly meet by chance, which hasn’t been all too often. Bokuto also has no idea that Keiji is going to check out the choir; if he did, he’d probably pressure him to join. Terushima has already been annoying enough with that.

He does, however, not shut up about Oikawa. _I wanted him for our band_ , Keiji remembers him say, _but he said he was already busy with choir. He helps us out sometimes and he’s super cool, but still …_

He’s a little wary upon Bokuto calling Oikawa ‘super cool’, as Bokuto standards don’t really align with his own, but if there’s something his friend is good at, it’s motivating people. If Oikawa didn’t join he either has admirable self-control or really just that much to do. Or, well, he didn’t want to sing for a band without a name.

(“That’s our gimmick, Akaashi. You don’t need a name when you’re as memorable as us!”)

Keiji probably shouldn’t raise his expectations too high – no matter what Oikawa was like on that stage, he’s still human. Heck, he might even be a terrible person. The reason Keiji wants to meet him – really meet him, not just randomly see him like on Tuesday – is his musical skill though.

And it’s not just about Oikawa. Everyone in that choir seemed top-notch. It makes him wonder how to even get in. Terushima said they hold auditions, but how it is decided who makes it and who doesn’t is still a mystery to both of them. Quite honestly, he doubts he could even make it if he tried. He’s not that good, really.

Not to mention he’d have to keep up with the choreographies.

The more he thinks about this, the surer he is it is going to be a one-time thing. It was decided to be from the start, really. All he needs to do is explain that to Terushima – after the rehearsal.

 

* * *

 

One thing Karasuno has that sets it apart from many others is a student library of sheet music and sample audio, composed entirely of original works and covers done by the students of the school. He’s decided that if he really ends up having to audition even though he’s only watching, he needs a song ready, and none of the ones he had in his repertoire seemed right. Learning an entirely new one would have been hardly possible but thankfully, there is one particular piece he heard the first time he visited Karasuno that has been stuck in his head ever since. This is his first opportunity to get the sheet music, but he should have it down even without that.

Once Keiji has figured out how the pieces are sorted, he has no difficulty finding it, and he smiles contently upon seeing the sheet music for the first time. There’s something magical about finding a song you love in its original form.

He sits down at one of the library tables and opens the folder carefully. _Crystalline_ is written at the top, surprisingly in neat, cursive handwriting, despite the rest being done via computer. This might be a copy but it almost feels like the composer themselves was here, urging him to read it. They clearly have a sense for the aesthetic, that much is for certain.

That’s what the piece sounds like, too, clear and quiet and beautiful, with high notes on the instrumental but low vocals, creating a contrast that seems to fit the title of the song perfectly.

Back when he came here a year ago, the original was sung by a fourth year, although Bokuto said that it hasn’t actually been the composer. Keiji would like to find out who wrote it. Sadly he can’t find the name and doesn’t have enough time to look, as his break is almost over and he still needs to try and navigate the checkout system for the first time. Maybe he can search for it later; it has to be written _somewhere_.

 

* * *

 

Finding the room the choir practices in – just behind the auditorium they had the introduction ceremony in, with the door being so hidden it almost feels like they shouldn’t be here – took so long he almost bailed and just went home instead, but now he’s standing in front of it, itching to go in but increasingly nervous with every second that passes.

Terushima is pacing up and down in front of it, visibly annoying the other first years waiting with them for someone who’s actually in the choir to appear. They can’t just walk in there after all. There’s surprisingly few people outside of the room.

Guess the rehearsal time was a turnoff for many, him included.

 _It’s just this one time_ , he reminds himself, and it’s true. Even if he messes up somehow, he won’t return either way, so it doesn’t matter. It sure feels like it does, though.

“Are you here to for the choir?” someone says and everyone freezes at the sight of a beautiful girl with long black hair and glasses and a mole and a gaze that says absolutely nothing. Keiji blinks once, twice, before he remembers where he’s seen her before.

The bassist of Bokuto’s band sings with the choir? Somehow he feels like he should have known that.

“Oh my god, she’s so pretty,” Terushima whispers and Keiji tugs on his shirt, warning him that if he does anything stupid, he’ll regret it. For some reason he feels like he has to.

The girl doesn’t say much more, just waits for one of the others to nod before she pushes the door open, gesturing them to follow her inside.

“Do you think she’s in the choir? Or maybe she’s a tech person. Or maybe she just saw me and thought she needed to follow me—”

“I’d say you’re just delusional,” Keiji deadpans and looks around the room.

It’s very spacious, with big windows, heavy wine red curtains at the side, a beautiful white grand piano that must be ridiculously expensive at the front, and a door that probably leads into a storage room for chairs and instruments. He can tell just from hearing their footsteps and the quiet ramble of the other students that it has great acoustics. It kind of makes him sad he won’t stay here for long.

The piano doesn’t go unnoticed by Terushima, who immediately points to it. “Play something, Akaashi! Maybe the pretty girl will talk to you and you can arrange a date for me.”

Keiji sighs. His new friend really does sound like Bokuto, just significantly straighter. He’s not sure yet if that’s a good or a bad thing. “Shouldn’t we help setting up the chairs?”

The girl from before shakes her head. “Don’t worry about that.”

She doesn’t seem to be a woman of many words, which Keiji is entirely fine with. If he ended up joining the choir after all, they might become friends. But he won’t. Well, he’ll probably meet her again anyway, with her being on Bokuto’s band and all, even though she doesn’t look like the type for it.

At least she doesn’t even look at Terushima, which makes him assume she’s relatively sane.

“Please, Akaashi, help a guy out …” He stops and gasps dramatically. “Or are you trying to sabotage me? Are we rivals in love?”

“I’m saving you a lifetime of regret,” Keiji says. “Besides, can you really speak of love? You’ve seen her for the first time today.”

“But I’ve heard the _stories_! I think she’s that second year everyone’s talking about! The prettiest girl in school!”

“The school is big.” He has to admit she is pretty, but she’s not exactly his type, considering she’s a girl. Although he can see why people would fall for her regardless of sexuality – she’s one of those people that makes others question theirs. How ironic would it be if she was aromantic? He’ll have to ask Bokuto about it sometime.

He doesn’t really listen to Terushima’s rambles as the room fills steadily, and he recognises some familiar faces from his classes and the entrance ceremony. There’s a girl with dirty blond hair tied up in a ponytail and a feisty grin on her lips whose name he can’t remember, but he’s pretty sure she sits next to him in his introductory music history class. She doesn’t seem to notice him though.

By the time practice officially starts the room is packed and he’s glad he managed to get a seat while some of the other first years have to stand. Keiji thinks he’s spotted Oikawa somewhere but isn’t entirely sure.

The choirmaster arrives not one second too early and Keiji immediately sits up a little straighter. He’s old, with white hair and deep wrinkles, and has an air of superiority around him, despite his smile. If he didn’t mix anything up, his name should be Nekomata Yasufumi. He knew about him before, most piano players should have, really, but seeing him in person is completely different.

“Quite a lot of first years this time around, eh?” he asks and his voice is heavy and kind, although Keiji has no doubts he can be scary when he’s angry. Exactly the type of person he likes to work with. “Well, even if not all of you may stay, welcome to the Karasuno mixed choir.”

“Oh my god, that’s Nekomata, I’ve heard he’s—” Terushima’s whisper to him is cut off by a glare from Nekomata, and then an almost sinister smile.

 _There’s a reason everyone’s quiet, idiot_ , Keiji tries to tell him through his thoughts.

“You seem to be a talkative one. How about after we warm up our voices, you’ll sing something for us?”

It takes all Keiji has to not facepalm. This is the kind of person he gets stuck with. The one who acts without thinking and gets himself into trouble before it’s even logically possible. Maybe he should go into teaching at a kindergarten instead, clearly destiny’s trying to tell him he’s cut out for babysitting.

To his surprise, Terushima only seems mildly fazed and instead nods quite excitedly. “Sure, no problem!”

He really was looking forward to this, huh? Or maybe he’s just trying to impress that girl. Probably both.

The warming up is quick but thorough, most likely because Nekomata wants those auditions to get done today. It’s a good thing he prepared that song. Or maybe they’re not auditions at all, maybe he’s just trying to see what they’re made of – he can’t quite believe that Nekomata truly disliked Terushima whispering to him, especially after that answer. He’s probably searching for the charismatic, confident type. They’re performers, after all.

Once they’re done, Terushima hurries to the front, Nekomata stepping aside for him. He’s practically beaming and seems very, very sure he’s going to ace this. Keiji envies his confidence.

“Do I need background music or …”

Nekomata laughs. “You can use it if you want to, but it’s not important, no. What’s your name?”

“Ah, right! Terushima Yuuji.”

Keiji decides he’ll play the piano to his song – he doesn’t know the exact notes but what he’s played by ear ever since hearing it is actually pretty accurate, and he does have the sheet music to guide him. He just hopes the instrument won’t throw him off too much, since it’s the first time he’ll play on a grand piano. It can’t be that different though.

Terushima clears his throat and, to his surprise but not really, starts rapping. It’s really good too, but way too fast for him to keep up. Who would have known? It certainly does fit him, and once he switches to the singing sections, it becomes clear that his claims to be a good singer were definitely true. There’s a certain edge to his voice, it’s not quite raspy but pretty close, and it has exactly the right amount of power. Nekomata seems to like it too, his smile growing bigger as he nods.

The crowd cheers when Terushima finishes on a long, drawn out note, and he bows with a wide grin. He definitely has the performance part down pat, and there’s no doubt he’ll make it.

“Great, that was great,” Nekomata says earnestly. Yes, Keiji likes him. Not that it matters.

He immediately stops liking him when his eyes fall onto him and he asks, “What about you then? We can just go by seats.”

One half of him says, _Wait, not yet, I’m not mentally prepared for this_ , while his other, much more competitive, side says, _Sure, it won’t be too hard to surpass Terushima_ , even though he knows exactly that’s not the case.

Well, he has to do it sooner or later, doesn’t he?

He lets out a breath and stands up, taking the sheets from his bag, and slowly walks to the front. When he turns around, all eyes are on him ( _obviously, on who else, you’re up front, you idiot_ ). It’s not his first time standing in the spotlight, but Fukurodani never had auditions – he feels like he’s being judged already.

It doesn’t help that Oikawa is sitting in the front row. Damn it.

“I’m Akaashi Keiji,” he forces out somehow. “Uhm, I’ll play the piano, if that’s okay?”

“Unless you don’t forget to sing, of course,” Nekomata says with a laugh.

“Alright.” Except it’s not alright and he’d really like to go back to his seat, this is stupid, he won’t even continue with this, but he’s here now and he might as well get this over with.

He sits down at the piano and gently brushes his hands over the keys. It calms him down immediately. This isn’t that different from playing for himself or recording that video as an application to the school.

The silence in the room is heavy, but with his eyes focused on the sheet music in front of him, it’s comforting, too. He can forget he’s being watched this way. They only need to be quiet until he’s found his rhythm.

Then, slowly, he begins to play.

The intro comes to him easily, it’s not quite the same as in the sheet music but it doesn’t matter because it sounds _right_ , all quiet and serene but impactful nonetheless. It’s his second favourite part of the piece so he’s practiced it over and over again, and it shows – he’s happy with how he’s playing.

He’s sung this uncountable times too, and yet it takes him by surprise when he has to start. Thankfully, he doesn’t miss his entry.

It’s an easy melody, one he can do without many problems, but it’s only a build-up to some really difficult sections near the middle. But he can’t think of that right now. “ _Coated in starlight, the river is flowing / it never knows how to halt in its tracks / just like I never learned how to breathe._ ”

He remembers thinking it’s beautiful but sad and hopeful at the same time, although he never quite knew what to make of the lyrics. They’re clearly meant for someone special, a connection he would never understand without feeling it, he supposes. “ _Pulling me under the surface, you’re reaching / and I would let you all over again / because I’ve long unlearned how to stop._

“ _But if it means to see you just one more time_ ,” there’s that really annoying diminished fourth coming up, why would you ever put that in there, it’s just making it harder to sing, “ _I’d do it all over again / your touch is like death and I crave the release / hold me close as I break / as we break through the crystalline seas._ ”

Oh, thank god, it sounded decent.

He gets through the rest of the song with hardly any problems, and reaches the end without messing up even in his play, which he notes down as a success. “ _If silence is what you want of me / I’ll sew my mouth shut so you’ll never have to hear / let you tear me to pieces, let you leave me in shards / but know every last bit of sunlight / even then I’ll reflect for you / and you alone._ ”

The piece finishes on a soft repeat of the intro that he draws out a little longer than absolutely necessary before the last note fades out into nothing and he’s met with applause.

If nothing else, at least he didn’t fail completely.

He carefully avoids looking at anyone when he goes back to his seat and sighs heavily once he sits, and Terushima nudges his shoulder. “Not half bad, man.”

One by one, the first years audition or whatever this is, and aside from a select one or two, all of them are at least decent. Keiji figures he probably fits somewhere in the middle, and Terushima’s pretty high up on the list, even though he’s easily beaten by the girl from his course he saw earlier. She has the singing voice of an angel, a nice, soothing alto that can still reach incredible heights and bends easily to her will. He wonders what school she’s from or if she’s sang in a professional choir before, maybe even done some solo acts, because there’s no way she got this good without proper training.

Before he knows it, he’s handed a short booklet that turns out to be sheet music for a song he’s pretty sure he’s heard before but can’t quite pin down. It’s definitely no original, for once.

“Let’s start easy this year,” Nekomata says. “Last year, the fourth years who have now graduated have been making song requests for us to sing this year, and this was the most requested one. I’m sure you’ll know what it is once you hear it.”

From that point onward, practice feels familiar. He expected them to be more professional, more intimidating, than the Fukurodani choir but they’re actually almost exactly the same, except their first tries sound significantly better. It’s fun, actually. He never hated choir. If he had, he wouldn’t have done it for so long; he likes the atmosphere of singing in a group to create the best sound possible with so many different voices, the attitude of people being serious about going onstage, and the occasional messing around.

Not halfway in, Keiji finds himself smiling as he’s singing, and has half a mind to stay after all. After their last concert, the third years didn’t sing in choir anymore, so it’s been a while since his last rehearsal, and he missed it, he really has.

By the end of it he has three different songs laid out in front of him, two of which he knows and one of which is unfamiliar. The baritone sections look fun – he sang tenor today which he’s only mildly suited for, but the thought of diving back into his familiar part excites him.

But, well, he won’t stay, so it doesn’t matter after all.

While they’re putting the chairs back into the storage room, Nekomata is strolling through the room and talking to the first years, probably telling them how their addition went and whether they’re welcome in the choir. It’s kind of sad to see some of their faces drop, but they’re already so many people and they have a quality standard to keep up, he supposes.

“Think you’re gonna get in?” Terushima asks and takes a chair.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it,” Keiji murmurs. “I don’t think I was good enough, to be honest. You definitely are though.”

“C’mon, don’t leave me alone here, I still need you as a wingman!”

“I’m not staying anyway, did you forget that?”

“You aren’t?” someone says next to them and Terushima drops his chair, directly onto his foot. Keiji can hear him cursing under his breath and pats his shoulder. Nekomata on the other hand looks unfazed.

“It doesn’t exactly fit my schedule,” he says, but feels like he’s lying, despite it being true.

The man shakes his head slowly. “Such a shame, you would have made a great addition. I could see you in a duet with Nametsu … Or Kuraka, maybe …”

Nametsu, right, that was the name of the girl he knows. Nametsu Mai. It’s not a particularly strange name, so it didn’t stick right away.

“Maybe you can give it another thought, but ultimately it’s your decision. It makes me wonder why you even came though.”

He thinks that saying _I didn’t really have a choice because Terushima wouldn’t let it go_ sounds really disrespectful, so he answers, “I thought I could at least try it to see if I can pull through for so long, but I don’t think I can.” It’s not exactly a lie.

Nekomata only hums, then turns to Terushima, who at least has stopped cursing. Keiji takes the opportunity to get away from them and actually start being a little more productive. Almost everything is put away and he still hasn’t properly helped.

They’re done soon after and Nekomata dismisses them with a smile. Come to think of it, he’s never really stopped smiling so far. He’s not sure what to make of it.

Keiji picks up his bag and is just about to leave when someone near him says, “Wait!”

Oikawa is leaning on a windowsill and must have meant somebody else, because there’s no way he’d even remember his existence. Unless, well, Bokuto told him. Actually, that sounds pretty likely. Keiji points at himself just to make sure and receives a nod.

“Akaashi, was it?” Oikawa asks, his tone of voice cheerful, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Bo-kun told me about you. Didn’t shut up about you, actually.”

“Did he?” Of course he did. It’s Bokuto. “Sorry if I disappointed you or anything.”

“No, no, that’s not it.”

The fact that there is even an _it_ is unsettling enough as it is. Keiji’s not the kind of person who gets noticed by someone this … Noticeable. Bokuto and Terushima do not count, they’re entirely different personalities, from what he can tell. He’s always thought of himself as a rather perceptive person, but it’s hard to get a read on Oikawa, at least so far.

“It’s ironic, though, that you’d sing _Crystalline_ of all things.”

“Do you know it?” Keiji asks warily.

“I wrote it, actually.”

_Oh._

“That …” He’s not entirely sure what to say to this, to be honest. To think he’d choose a song by the person that was his inspiration to even try this out of all people sounds like too big a coincidence. Plus it makes the whole trying to read him thing all the more difficult. “Really is ironic.”

Oikawa’s smile falls. “You know, you have a nice voice, Akaashi … Akaashi-chan? Akaa-chan? No, that’s not quite right …”

“Just Akaashi is okay,” he says but feels like it won’t change anything.

“Akaacchi! Akaacchi is good. Where was I?” Yes, somehow, he does see Oikawa getting along with Bokuto. It just makes sense in his head. He’s probably much better at tolerating his occasional or not so occasional bullshit anyway.

“My voice.” He can’t bring himself to say _that I have a nice voice_ , he knows he’s not too terrible but it just feels like he’s being too confident. He’ll leave that to Terushima and the likes.

“Right, your voice!” Oikawa calls as if it’s a revelation. “You have a nice voice, but …”

He can guess exactly what he’s about to say. It’s what he’s heard many times before, over and over again until he’s grown kind of sick of it.

“I didn’t really believe you.”

And there it is. Usually it’s _your performance itself is underwhelming_ or something similar, but this probably describes it even better.

Oikawa looks him directly in the eyes – his are a shade of brown similar to his hair, hard but warm in some way, and Keiji notices they’re about the same height. Maybe Oikawa is a bit taller, but not by much. He definitely _feels_ taller, though less intimidating than scrutinising, and can probably get really scary when he wants to be. “Singing is like telling a story, and if you’re being boring, people won’t listen to you. Your piano play was flawless, but your vocals felt soulless.”

Keiji takes a deep breath and tries not to look too hurt. It’s not the first time he’s heard this, but this one stings a lot more than usual – maybe it’s because he feels like he’s failed him, taken his own song but hasn’t done it justice, and it’s painful, really painful. He came here to learn from Oikawa, not to be taken apart by him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think you’re bad, and you have great potential, but I do wonder if this is something you can fix. If it isn’t … It’s good enough to stay in a choir, definitely, but don’t expect to be getting any solos. But hey, background vocals are important too.”

Okay, now he’s just being unnecessarily cruel, and while he can’t technically argue with what Oikawa is telling him, his competitive side raises his head and before he can even think about it, he says, “No offense, but if you’re scared enough of losing your soloist position to a first year to tell him this after you’ve heard him for the first and only time, maybe you’re the one not cut out for the job. Confidence can be a difficult thing to deal with, especially the absence of it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home so I can practice for next Monday.”

Before Oikawa can make any retorts – not that he would, he’s positively speechless – Keiji leaves the room with fast steps, hoping if he just keeps walking it will drown out the echo of what he just said resounding in his head.

It doesn’t. Oh god, he’s already regretting this.

But it doesn’t keep him from fishing his phone from his bag and texting Terushima, six simple words that he can’t back down on now.

_Forget what I said. I’m staying._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are a lot of questions in Akaashi Keiji's life, "why the hell did I do that" is surprisingly many of them


	3. Diminutive Attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this might have been the fastest update I've ever done. don't get used to it, uni's starting again next week agh
> 
> I don't know how the main trio of this fic turned into Akaterumai but I'm not complaining, I'm really liking their dynamic so far °^° also PRACTICE CAMPS!! I have so many stories to tell from practice camps omg I'm so excited to write that
> 
> Oikawa is a mystery ... mystoorury ... mystoory?
> 
> I feel like "mellower" isn't a word but "more mellow" was apparently wrong and according to Microsoft Word "mellower" exists? idk why is English the way it is

“I think our voices could fit,” Nametsu says and gently elbows Keiji in the side. “Let’s go for a duet sometime. I need someone to help me get the attention of that pretty second year, Shimizu-san.”

He’s about to ask why he of everyone in the choir has been deemed to be the best person for that by two different people now but decides not to, just to save him further trouble. While they’re waiting for their professor to arrive, Nametsu is asking him all sorts of things about choir. She’s wearing a low side ponytail today, which makes her look much more innocent, but it hasn’t quite translated into her personality. She didn’t even bother with a ‘hello’, just jumped straight into the questioning. Technically she shouldn’t even know he’ll continue or, heck, has been accepted yet, but either word gets around here fast or she’s good at assuming.

Still, if he ends up with _another_ Bokuto-like friend he might just spontaneously combust. Thankfully she seems to be on the saner end of the spectrum, which is a relief at least.

“Which school did you go to again?”

“Fukurodani,” Keiji says, “in Tokyo.”

Nametsu gasps lightly. “Oh, I’ve heard great things about their choir! Never seen them live though.”

“We were pretty good, yeah.” That might be an understatement – especially during his second year, they were _really_ good, to the point where they won the Best High School Choir of Tokyo Award. The actual name is even more clunky, which is probably why he can’t remember it.

“Our school didn’t even have a choir,” Nametsu says with a pout. “I got singing lessons from my uncle though, he runs a music school in Kyoto. My cousin’s pretty famous over there.”

Okay, that explains a lot – why he’s never heard her before and why she’s still so good. Apparently she’s a pure vocalist too. Getting into Karasuno without playing at least one instrument or being on the more technological side like Terushima is pretty much impossible for any human being but here she is. He’s almost envious.

“He’s not going to Karasuno?” If Nametsu’s cousin is indeed famous, he should have heard about him at least once, but why would he not go here then? Kyoto does have some good alternatives, or maybe he just wanted something else, but this seems like a big chance.

“Nah, he’s going into sports management. He’s doing volleyball and track, too. No idea how he manages all of it and still gets perfect grades, but hey … His choice.” Right when she finishes, the professor walks into the room, and their conversation gets cut short.

Halfway into the lecture he finds himself staring out of the window at nothing in particular. He tries to focus on taking notes and paying attention again but can’t help his mind wandering back to the choir, no matter how hard he tries not to let it.

Nametsu seems like a good person, and he has Terushima as well, not to mention how fun last practice was. It should be a good experience, if a tiring one – he can’t help but look forward to next Monday. If only there wasn’t that one small detail: Oikawa.

It’s been three days and he’s still thinking about their argument or whatever it was. He has to say, so far he’s been doing a spectacular job at achieving the exact opposite of what he originally wanted, with Oikawa being the obvious elephant in the room. He was right, Keiji knows he was, even if the way he phrased that last part was off, but he can’t just _accept_ it, and if he has to become better at putting emotion into his songs out of pure spite then damn straight, he will. He couldn’t care less about what that admittedly extremely talented second year has to say. He won’t give up just because he was told he’d be a better background singer.

(He knows he’s a good background singer, thank you very much.)

The first thing he woke up to on Tuesday morning was a text by Bokuto that read _oikawas ranting abiut some 1 st yr n i think he means u????_, which lead to him masterfully neglecting his duty to answer; it wouldn’t be the first time but it’s usually much less stressful. Why do Bokuto and Oikawa have to be friends again? This is _his_ petty argument, damn it.

But being petty isn’t all there is to it. If it was, he wouldn’t even bother, because why should he play into Oikawa’s cards and try to prove him wrong even with the likely chance of failing miserably? It’s not something he’d normally do, and quite honestly, this level of spite is reserved for the most annoying of people most of the time.

No, the more he thinks about it, the more the knowledge wears on him that Oikawa didn’t say those things without reason. He knew that before, yes, long before he even heard of his now-senpai’s existence but having it thrown so blatantly in his face while most others tend to at least retain some semblance of tact was like a wake-up call in a way.

By the end of their shared practice time he wants to be good enough for Oikawa to take back what he said, for his own sake. Getting his approval would mean he’s finally good enough.

And the only way he can get there is by learning from him.

(Which was his goal in the first place, so it doesn’t really matter how many detours he needs to reach this conclusion again, he supposes.)

It still doesn’t make the prospect of eventually having to answer Bokuto and running into Oikawa at choir again much more appealing, but hey, what can you do.

 

* * *

 

You can, as he finds out, do your best to subtly hide behind Terushima while setting up the chairs so that you just blend in with the crowd without Oikawa seeing you. It’s not the most graceful way out, he knows that, but Monday just came so _fast_.

It doesn’t help that he’s tired, as in really, really tired, because he lay awake most night trying to fall asleep but not being able to. His schedule was just the final nail in his coffin.

At least he can disappear into the corner of the back row and be as quiet as it is possible with Terushima and Nametsu at his sides. It’s a one-time-only thing though, as he doubts Nametsu will sit with them once they’re properly sorted into their respective voices.

While they’re waiting for Nekomata to show up – he seems to be one of those people who are always almost too late without ever _actually_ being too late – he focuses on his sheet music more than absolutely necessary. He really has practiced at home and has a pretty good idea of the songs now, although there’s probably going to be more.

One of them is an older American song called _Late Night Café_ that’s being played on his mother’s favourite radio station a lot, then the one he thought he recognised (he really did remember it once he heard it, its name is _Above_ ), and one, _Diminutive Attention_ , he’s pretty sure is from a musical. It’s probably his favourite of the three, he’s always liked musicals and stage plays, actually, and the musical numbers they performed at Fukurodani were always fun.

It all works out perfectly, until Terushima nudges his shoulder and mutters, “Uh, is it just me or is Oikawa staring at us?”

Damn it.

“That’s ‘Oikawa-san’, don’t be disrespectful,” Nametsu corrects and leans forward. Keiji would just like to do the opposite and go back, back, until he merges with his seat. Alas, he has not yet acquired that ability. “He really is though. Did you say something to upset him, Teru-kun?”

“Hey, why are you blaming me? I’ve never even talked to him,” Terushima defends himself, hands thrown up.

“Then it’s got to be your vibe. Something about you is pissing him off.”

“You’re just targeting me here,” he whines. “Maybe it’s your fault.”

They’re just getting louder and louder, arousing attention Keiji really does not want, so even if it hurts him to admit it, he sighs and interrupts their quarrel. “It’s probably about me.”

Two widened pair of eyes turn to stare at him in shock, that’s not to mention the second year in question whom he makes a great effort to not look at. “Oh god, what did you do?” Nametsu whispers, and she suddenly sounds much more afraid. Is that the aura he has?

“We …” He’s not entirely sure how to phrase it, considering how he’d prefer to not mention it at all. “Had a bit of a disagreement last Monday.”

“Dude, please don’t tell me that’s why you joined,” Terushima says quietly.

“I mean … _Technically_ …”

He has never been as thankful at a director walking into the room as he is right now. Nekomata’s appearance is enough to cut their conversation short and turn their attention to the front. He thinks he sees Oikawa looking at him from the spot he sat at yesterday, but he could be wrong – it’s not like he’s trying to watch him.

Instead he listens closely to what Nekomata has to say, both because it’s important and because it makes not overthinking things significantly easier.

“This might be a little sudden, but at the end of next month we’ll have a practice camp in the mountains for five days. It’s during the free period, so you don’t have to worry about missing anything, but obviously you’re still expected to work for your classes. You’re going to be on a tight schedule for the whole week.”

Right, he heard about that – they have a few weeks without classes every once in a while that are meant both to let them work freely and to make room for deeper club practice. He didn’t expect their first camp to be so soon though. It definitely won’t be easy, especially since he has no doubt their professors will pile plenty of work on them as well.

“Also, I’d like you to make song suggestions,” Nekomata continues. “Our first concert will be at the end of the semester and while we’ll share it with the main orchestra, we’ll want at least seven songs prepared. If you have any ideas or original songs we can work with, just write them down and hand me the paper. Preferably today, but at least by next week. We need as much time as we can get. Frankly, you’re all far removed from your true potential. But this is only the second time we’re all gathered here, so don’t overthink it and instead focus on working hard to improve yourselves and your sound as a group.”

Seven songs are ridiculous at their level, Keiji thinks. At Fukurodani they had up to five at maximum, usually less – there’s not much time and they don’t just want to churn out some decent singing to appeal to the masses, they want to be _good_.

They most likely will be, but he does have to wonder how hard it will be to get there.

“Practice camp!” Nametsu whispers with a big grin. “I’m excited!”

Terushima leans over Akaashi to quietly respond, “You’re saying that now, just wait till we’re there. I’ve heard it’s harsh at best and torture at worst. People’ve quit over practice camp.”

The sparkle doesn’t leave her eyes though. Maybe he’s befriended a masochist.

“Ah, and also,” Nekomata says, “there’s a small regional competition in October that we’re going to sing at. Now there’s a little catch, and that’s that we have to sing three songs, and at least one of them has to be an original. Most of you already know that from the last years, however …” He gives the group one of his slightly scarier grins. “You can work in groups and we’ll probably fix some things together in the end, but a good part of the final product should be written by a first year. No creative limitations, just do what you’re most comfortable with as long as we can sing it. We’ll build the rest around that song style-wise so you don’t need to feel like you have to fit a certain genre.”

Oh, just wonderful. Well, he’ll just dodge it – Keiji’s nowhere near good enough to write his own songs yet, even in a group. Maybe if inspiration strikes he’ll bring up some ideas though. He likes the idea of singing an original after all.

“I understand it’s difficult if you don’t have a grasp on our overall sound yet, so don’t rush it, but if you could give us a first impression at the practice camp that would be ideal.”

“What if there’s more than one?” a first year in the front row asks.

“Then we’ll choose,” Nekomata says as if it’s obvious, which … Well, it probably is. “And the other two songs are free choice so we can actually use two or three originals. I’d just prefer if we didn’t reuse any songs from our big concert, although we can if it’s absolutely necessary.”

Okay, so that’s ten songs at minimum, at least one of which is an original that doesn’t even exist yet, and the concert is in half a year, with the competition shortly after. It’s not _impossible_ but if they want to polish them, it’s going to be really tough, and that’s only a club activity.

Then again, he knew that already, didn’t he?

“Are there any more questions?”

When nobody asks anything, they go over to warming up their voices, this time longer than last Monday. One in particular is hard to do without laughing – there’s something about singing ‘flabadaflabadaflap’ for longer than a minute that always cracks him up. It’s probably just him. He finds out that their breathing exercises are much more detailed than they were at Fukurodani, too.

Afterwards they’re asked to assign themselves to the voices they think they suit best. Keiji quickly hurries over to the baritone section, Terushima trailing closely behind, while Nametsu waves her goodbye as she stays where they were with the altos.

All the while, Nekomata surveys them closely, cocking his head at some choices. It takes some time due to the sheer size of the group and how closely they’re standing together in the room, leading to a lot of “is this the bass section?” questions and the likes. He notices that while there are less first years than last time, they’re still somewhere around twenty, double the group size of who he presumes to be third and fourth years. Maybe they’re just a good year, but then again, there’s about as many second years as there are first years, unless he’s getting some people wrong. He has looked them up on the school website but you never know.

Once they’ve settled, the way they’re standing is making a lot more sense. It’s a bit like a curve in height – from left to right, it’s alto, mezzo soprano, soprano, tenor, baritone, and bass. He sees Shimizu in the soprano section, which considering her speaking voice kind of surprises him.

He does not, however, see who’s standing right next to him until he speaks to him.

“Hey there, Akaacchi.”

 _This has got to be some kind of cruel joke_.

Keiji takes a deep breath, reminding himself to keep his composure, before he answers. “Hello, Oikawa-san.”

There are many things he wants to say to him, just not right now, or ever in the near future because he still hasn’t come up with a good way to start, but it seems he’s not any luckier than he was in high school.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” He’s hearing a cold smile in Oikawa’s voice but won’t check if he’s right. Staring straight ahead at that pretty grand piano seems like the better option.

“I don’t know what I should,” he lies.

“For starters, ‘sorry’, maybe?”

Yes, it’s a nice piano. It’s clean, too; with this colour it must be annoying to keep it as sparkly as it is, you can probably see every particle on dust on that white. “I’m not sure what you want me to apologise for. I only said what I presume to be the truth.”

“Do you even believe that yourself? You couldn’t handle my critique, is all.”

The keys are just as shiny, and he knows from playing them that they feel as inviting as they look. They’re heavy but not too heavy, every press of his fingers drawing out a beautiful note as a reward. It would be nice to play on it again. “I was perfectly fine with your critique, and I think we both know I’m willing to work on what you said, but you could have kept that last part to yourself. That was hardly criticism anymore.”

Nekomata is walking around the room, shaking his head at some of them and gestures for those people to move to a different voice. It’s amazing how he remembers their voices that well, actually. But that’s to be expected from Karasuno’s choir director, he supposes.

“I’m just trying to encourage you!” The smile in Oikawa’s voice has been replaced with a pout that somehow, just the tiniest bit, makes him feel like maybe things will be okay after all.

Of course, his mouth doesn’t seem to register as much. “Well, you weren’t. I understand you were upset with me butchering your song, but you should learn to control your temper,” he murmurs involuntarily.

_Wonderful, Keiji. Really smooth._

“You weren’t _butchering_ it,” Oikawa says and almost sounds disgusted at the thought. Keiji has to fight the urge to look at him. “Far from it. It’s just …”

When he doesn’t continue for a few seconds, he breaks his own silent promise to turn his head and finds him staring at nothing in particular, features relaxed as if in thought. “It’s kind of annoying.”

He doesn’t have the time to ask him how he means it.

“Good, good.” Nekomata claps his hands and nods. “Some of you aren’t too good at judging yourselves, are you? That’s also an important skill. Now that we’re finally done with this though, let’s get to practicing.”

Keiji never liked singing directly next to someone in a different voice. Few people do, he assumes, as it can get really distracting.

So it’s probably not too big a surprise that singing next to Oikawa seems sheer impossible. It doesn’t help he sang the tenor parts last time and still has them stuck in his head, despite practicing the baritone on his own.

The way the notes are set is difficult enough on its own and every time he thinks he finally has it, he slips up again, until he just wants to switch places with Terushima next to him but there’s no way his pride is allowing that.

Long, drawn-out background notes like in _Late Night Café_ are fine, he can deal with those, but especially the choruses seem to have it out for him. He doesn’t miss Oikawa’s occasional giggles in between vocal sections either.

He’s really doing his best to focus on his parts and not get distracted. This is a choir, damn it, and even if he dislikes it, it’s not the first time he sung next to another voice. He just needs to adjust again, this is all from not practicing for a while, he decides to tell himself.

The thing is, his wobbling around also affects Terushima, which in turn seems to affect the blond, tall first year next to him. Their senpai seem to be fine at least, but this is his own fault.

At one point, Nekomata stops them in the middle of the song and says, “Baritone is kind of shaky. Can you do this part on your own right now?”

Of course, they sound good, now that there’s nobody to distract them from their voice. He makes a mental note to stand in the middle of the section next time. This is downright pathetic, especially since he knows he can do better.

At least Oikawa in a group isn’t quite as distracting as Oikawa with a solo. If he was, Keiji would probably accidentally stop singing. He admires the people who have built up enough of a resistance to him to keep going in the background. Or maybe it’s just him. It probably is.

But hell, he’s built enough self-control to play the violin with Bokuto drumming behind him loud enough to drown out his own sound. He’ll get used to this too.

Eventually. Most likely. Probably. Hopefully?

No, definitely. This isn’t something he can just ignore.

He’ll just have to drill the baritone into his head until he doesn’t know how to sing anything else. Although that could be problematic too.

 

* * *

 

Practice is going on longer than last time so they take a small break in between. Keiji decides he’ll go outside for a few minutes, to catch some fresh air and clear his head and maybe snatch a different spot when they go back to their positions.

(But then again, that would feel like losing, and he doesn’t like that thought one bit.)

Terushima and Nametsu quickly join him outside, and they look about the same degree of extreme but in the exact opposite direction.

“This is so much fun! Oh my god, you guys need to have pure baritone section!” Nametsu says with a wide grin on her face and her cheeks painted red.

“What the hell was that?” Terushima asks, eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide, hands gesticulating hastily. “Like, we kept getting our parts wrong! And you and Oikawa!”

“San,” Nametsu adds.

Right. Terushima heard that. Of course he did, they were standing next to each other. Somehow, he didn’t make the connection.

This is going to be way more exhausting than he hoped, isn’t it?

“We just need more practice,” Keiji says. “Maybe you can help us with that, Nametsu-san? As a counter to us so that we relearn how to not get distracted.”

“Oh, just ‘Mai’ is fine by the way. But sure, if you have the time?”

He doesn’t really but this is still the best way to fix his problem (and arguably Terushima’s too, considering he was also affected). There goes what little of his free time is still left. “Let’s set something later.”

“So …” Mai bites her lip to supress what he presumes is an evil grin and he feels like going back inside again, but Terushima on his other side is in the way. “What is it with you and Oikawa-san now?”

“They have a really bad vibe,” Terushima says. “I feel like something could go wrong.”

Okay, now he’s just exaggerating. “You’re misinterpreting things, Terushima.” At least they seem to be on better terms than he feared.

“Why did you call her Nametsu-san but I’m just Terushima?”

“Only mature people deserve a ‘san’,” Nametsu takes the words right out of Keiji’s mouth. Sadly it doesn’t seem to distract her from the case at hand. “Now hurry up and tell us what happened, Aka-kun, break’s over soon.”

Thank god.

“It’s nothing big, we just clashed a bit last time and we both overreacted. We should be fine now.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Terushima grumbles and folds his arms over his chest. “We don’t need people fighting, this is supposed to be fun! Can’t we all just get along?”

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to do.” He feels like his words will fall on deaf ears though.

 

* * *

 

When they finish practice, a third year hands him a small piece of paper with a phone number and Oikawa’s name scribbled on it.

The connection between ‘we pissed each other off the first time we met each other’ and ‘here, have my phone number’ is lost to him but he’ll take it. What else can he do? Refuse? It feels like a challenge, and lately he’s been getting really sick of the fact that he feels like he has to take all of those. Isn’t there someone out there who could teach him how to be a bit mellower?

This time he’s leaving with his newly acquired friends instead of on his own – Nametsu lives in a dorm whereas Terushima actually has to take the same train as him, so they walk her home before going to the station. The air is still cold enough to turn his breath into little clouds and he can’t help but think this is what dragons must feel like. He never even imagined the possibility until Bokuto told him about it in his first week here.

The train station is warm enough to not make his fingers freeze off if he takes them out of his pockets for more than one second so he takes the opportunity to save Oikawa’s number. Maybe it’s not even his? Maybe he’s just pranking him? Well, he’s definitely not about to test it out.

“Huh? Whose number is that?” Terushima asks and leans over to read the name on the paper. “Wait, Oikawa?”

“San,” Keiji corrects.

“Don’t try to distract me! Why do you have Oikawa’s number?”

“Good question.” He’ll have to ask him next time.

“Dude, oh my god, this is crazy.” His friend cackles and even has the indecency to point at him. “Can’t you work your magic and make Shimizu give me her number?”

Oh, he would if that meant he’ll finally shut up. Sadly, that’s not guaranteed. He could probably even get that number, thanks to Bokuto, but Terushima doesn’t need to know that.

Speaking of Bokuto …

He has twelve missing texts from him, eleven of which consist of his name, which is not written correctly once in all of them. The last one is more interesting.

_UR STAYIN OIN CHIR??????_

Oh. Right. Figures he knew about him going to that first rehearsal, he has friends there, damn it. Why did he assume again that Bokuto didn’t know? In this case, he’ll have to congratulate him for being a better person than Keiji imagined and not pressuring him to stay.

“Do they mean ‘choir’ or is that code for something else?”

“It’s rude to read other people’s text messages, Terushima.”

“ _San_ ,” he whines.

It never seemed like Bokuto has the time to spellcheck or correct his mistakes, and ever since that autocorrect incident with an unfortunately named teacher in high school, Keiji can understand why he doesn’t use that feature anymore.

 _Yes_ , he responds, short and to the point. He’s not a big texter, really, although it depends on the person. Texting Bokuto is somehow way more exhausting than actually talking to him in person or calling him.

Come to think of it, he’ll have even less time to meet him now that he’s in choir. It’s kind of sad, they’re so close and now they’re at the same school again but their friendship will probably change significantly. He’ll do his best to keep this up though – there are a few things in his life he really doesn’t want to lose and Bokuto is one of them.

Although …

He looks at the piece of paper still in his hand and remembers that Bokuto and Oikawa are friends. His initial goal was learning from Oikawa, there’s no need to be particularly friendly with him for that, but if getting closer to him means he’ll get to keep the connection to his best friend …

It almost sounds like he’d be using him, but there’s nothing too bad that can come out of becoming friends with someone, right? And Terushima had a point when he said he wants everyone to get along. Anything is more fun when you actually like the people you’re doing it with.

It’s obvious Oikawa’s going to be a staple in his choir life, no doubt about it. Making the best out of the situation is natural.

Then again, it might not even work. Even after having settled their argument … Kind of … They aren’t exactly on the friendliest of terms just yet.

But then again, Oikawa did forward him his number.

“Uhm, ‘kaash?”

Keiji looks up again, eyebrows furrowed. “Where did that nickname come from?”

“Our train is here.”

Right. It is. It pains him to think about it, but without Terushima, he would have been so in thought he’d have missed it.

That doesn’t sound like him _at all_ , and actually this whole befriending Oikawa thing is bound to fail anyway. What was he thinking? He’s just getting too wrapped up in this already and it’s only the second week.

He’ll just take things as they come, like he always does. And he needs to stop planning around Oikawa, that guy’s not even in his voice, for god’s sake. He has more important things to take care of, both in choir and out of it.

Keiji puts his phone back into his pocket and throws the piece of paper into a trash bin inside the train. He does have it saved now, after all, and he won’t need it anymore.

Gathering his thoughts will be much easier without all of this on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto's texting style is based on me when I'm trying to write something on my phone with gloves on rip


	4. Spica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, don't get used to it.
> 
> I wrote most of the latter parts half asleep rip ... I'm gonna go over it for mistakes tomorrow but for now I'm just happy it's out tbh
> 
> I'm not sure if I like this chapter? I like parts of it I think??? idk I'm so tired ........ I'm going to bed bye

Terushima stares him straight in the eyes and says, “We’re gonna make a song.”

“What?”

“Think about it! You can play, like, three instruments and I can mix it so that we have something cool.”

Keiji doesn’t know where to begin. Maybe ‘we already have enough to do with what we have, on top of school’ would be a good place to start, or ‘it’s not that easy to write a song’, or ‘what are you doing in my apartment?’ but nothing comes out. Instead he just gapes at him.

“Think David Guetta or Love Live!”

“Those two don’t have anything in common,” he manages to say.

Terushima shakes his head and wags his finger, clicking his tongue as if Keiji is stupid for saying that. “You still have so much to learn. Why do we publish music?”

Should he just play along? Would that make everything worse? Ah, to hell with it. “To entertain, mostly.”

“Kinda,” his friend says and nods. “Most importantly it’s to make people happy.”

Is it really though? He can think about quite a few example proving the opposite.

“And that!” There’s a dramatic pause that makes Keiji raise an eyebrow. “Is what David Guetta and Love Live have in common. They make people happy. So we should see them as inspiration.”

“Some people are annoyed by them too.” Personally he doesn’t mind either though.

“Those people are outliers and should not be counted. So, our song!”

He appreciates Terushima’s enthusiasm but even if he wanted to write the song, which he doesn’t, it won’t fit into his schedule. There’s two tests next week he really needs to study for, not to mention the usual workload and choir. The practice camp from alleged hell is in a month too, and it’s only going to get worse until then.

At least their last rehearsal went smoothly, mostly because he’s turning avoiding Oikawa into an art form and practicing to counter other voices with Mai really has helped a bunch. Slowly but surely he’s regaining his rhythm and starting to feel more comfortable again.

But is that really what he’s supposed to think? He won’t get anywhere if he doesn’t change. Either way, it’s probably better to have a solid foundation than to start building up everything from scratch.

“We just need a topic,” he goes on. Even if he knew about Keiji’s feelings for the plan, which actually isn’t all too implausible, he probably wouldn’t let him go. “Any ideas?”

“Silence,” Keiji deadpans and leans back against the pillows on his couch.

“Boo. You have a terrible attitude, ‘kaash.” Terushima pouts and climbs next to him. He preferred him on the floor, to be honest, at least that meant him leaving Keiji’s personal space intact. “Just think about it! If we make the song and it’s really good, then not only do we have complete freedom over one thing we sing, we’re also gonna score lots of points with the senpai.”

“Is this about Shimizu-san again?” Keiji groans; this has been getting really old really fast.

To his surprise, Terushima shakes his head and grins. “Nope, about Oikawa. Uh. San. Have you texted him?”

Oh god, can he please have the topic of courting Shimizu back? He’s really sorry he complained about it.

“We don’t even talk during practice,” he says. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to get at.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just curious,” Terushima says but doesn’t look all that apologetic. “I have a feeling you two would either be best friends or mortal enemies and I wanna find out which it is.”

 _How about we just go with acquaintances who don’t hate each other but don’t care either?_ Terushima is far from a bad person, but he can get a little annoying at times. Thinking about his and Oikawa’s lack of any sort of relationship only makes him feel like he’s failed. Which he probably has. The reason he joined was to learn from Oikawa, damn it, that won’t work if he keeps avoiding him, even if they don’t have to be friendly.

Or maybe he really should pick that ‘befriend Oikawa and keep the friendship with Bokuto in the process’ idea up again. At this rate, he’s only destroying his own plan, not that he had any particular one in the first place.

“I mean, not that you could have a better friend than me, but y’know,” Terushima adds with a wide grin.

“Actually, I probably like Mai better.”

He has to admit he’s happy with their little trio though; it’s much better than being completely on his own without anyone to turn to and spending time with them is just as fun as it can get. He just needs to find out how on earth Terushima managed to find and break into his apartment – when he came home after school today he almost had a heart attack upon seeing him sit on the sofa.

Terushima fakes a shocked gasp, complete with his hand dramatically placed over his mouth and his eyes wide open. He’d make a great actor. “I can’t believe it! How could you like anyone more than me? Unless … Don’t tell me you have a crush on her.”

Keiji sighs, long and heavy, and rolls his eyes. He’s fairly certain Terushima knows exactly he’s not into girls. “No, she’s just a lot less troublesome.”

“You’re saying that now, did you see her face when I told her about the camp? She’s gonna get real insane real quick. By the way, do you have any food?”

“Do you have your own place?” Keiji grumbles. At this rate, before he’ll know it he’ll have his entire year cramped into his apartment.

“Nah, I’m still living with my parents,” Terushima says. “My mom’s on a diet trip right now and all we have is vegetables. She’s even raided my secret popcorn supply!”

If that’s the case, he can kind of understand him. He did say he lives nearby so there’s probably no need to move out, even though Keiji isn’t sure what he would have done in his situation. For him, leaving school always meant leaving home, too, and controlling his own diet without being judged all the time is one of the benefits he’s really appreciating about being on his own. He just has to watch out not to gain too much weight – even in a choir, being onstage means constantly being watched, and he needs to stay in shape for their choreographies as well. They’re going to be taxing enough on their own. “Okay, fine, there’s a few things in the fridge. Don’t take too much.”

(He only hopes his definition of ‘not too much’ aligns with Terushima’s.)

“So, like,” his friend calls while surveying the fridge, “topic for the song! We need one!”

“Not if we don’t write it,” Keiji retorts, feeling like a broken record.

“Naw, c’mon, it’s gonna be fun! Oh my god, are those mini creampuffs?!”

Maybe he can get someone else involved that Terushima could work with. Mai sounded like she liked the idea even though they haven’t really discussed it yet, and some of the third years have offered their help to the first years at the last rehearsal. If he actually agrees now, gets enough people together, and then quietly disappears from the group, he might get out of it easier than by constantly trying to decline. It doesn’t seem to help anyway.

Terushima sounds suspiciously like he’s already having food in his mouth when he asks, “Is there anything you like a lot?”

“Owls,” Keiji says the first thing that comes to his mind, and it’s not wrong, as they are his favourite animals by a long shot. He didn’t even particularly care for the bird during junior high but spending three years at Fukurodani does that kind of thing to you.

“Owls, huh.” His friend drops down on the sofa again, the entire bag of mini creampuffs in his lap. “Can’t really write anything about that.”

“You asked, I answered,” Keiji says.

“Well, yeah …” He scratches his head and pulls his lips into some weird sort of frown. “We can go off of owls though. Or use it for the instrumental.”

He will most definitely not say out loud that his first thought at that is catching an owl and forcing it to hoot into a microphone. The idea’s not half bad though; maybe they can go for something atmospheric. Keiji grabs a mini creampuff from the bag and throws it into his mouth.

“The only thing I knows about owls is videos of them on the internet,” Terushima admits and Keiji is ready to hold a fifteen minute lecture about them right then and there but manages to hold himself back.

Then, suddenly, he gasps. “Your friend though! Black-and-white hair guy! He kinda looked like an owl, didn’t he? He’s gotta know about them!”

A pained laugh escapes from Keiji’s throat as he remembers quite vividly _just_ how big Bokuto’s owl trivia is. If he was half as good at remembering his scores, he’d be considered a genius. “Tell me about it.”

The idea of going to his friend for advice on writing a song about owls of all things sounds ridiculous even to him, who is very used to ridiculousness, especially considering he’s not even going to actually write it. But it’s a good chance to talk to Bokuto again if nothing else.

If he has the time, that is. His homework’s been piling up despite him trying hard to finish everything as soon as possible.

Exactly why did he join the choir again?

 

* * *

 

This. This is why he joined, he thinks as he leans against the wall outside of the room, the door open next to him so that he can clearly hear Oikawa singing a vocalise to a beautiful piano tune.

The result of his last class being suddenly cancelled was Keiji getting to rehearsal way too early, freezing in the doorframe when he saw Oikawa play, and getting out again as soon as possible, though unable to break the spell of his song. At least he hasn’t been seen. Hopefully.

There’s well over thirty minutes left before rehearsal starts and aside from the two of them, nobody’s here yet. Oikawa must not have class yet and probably wanted to use that time to play, even though he wasn’t this early the last few times. Maybe it was cancelled as well, not that it really matters.

For some reason, seeing him play an instrument surprised him, but it only makes sense – vocal-only students like Mai are pretty much cryptids as far as he’s concerned, and Oikawa _has_ written at least one song, which is significantly easier when you can actually play it. Still, Keiji feels kind of jealous. The piano is _his_ instrument, damn it.

At least he can revel in the fact that while Oikawa is good, they’re on about the same level. All hope is not lost.

He has his eyes closed, breathing steadily in time with the song’s rhythm, the wordless vocals almost ethereal in the quiet.

While it has gotten warmer, it’s still too cold for April, so he’d really like to go inside just about now, but there’s no way he can just walk in on Oikawa singing. Interrupting anyone in it is rude enough and on the list of people Keiji would prefer to just not speak to in general, he’s the clear number one, even if hearing him makes his resolve waver a bit. How is it possible to put this much emotion into a song that doesn’t even have lyrics? He can’t even pin down exactly what it is it’s making him feel, but it’s like he’s been transported to another world entirely.

The song finishes on a quiet note and everything turns silent again. Keiji breathes out slowly – now would be his chance to either leave or at least go inside to put his bag down and spend the rest of the waiting time exploring the building. He doesn’t necessarily like the thought of being alone with Oikawa right now, but …

 _Screw it_ , he thinks and pushes himself off the wall.

If there’s one thing he has truly perfected in his eighteen years of living, it’s his poker face. He makes sure to not betray a single thing when he walks inside, pretending not to notice the other boy sitting at the piano, and drops his bag on the exact same chair he sat on the last two times. Oikawa must have already set them up, which is a relief, as it always takes ages. It makes him wonder when exactly he came here.

His new spot is not directly next to Oikawa anymore (he managed to shove Terushima in between them) but close enough to signalise he’s not just giving up.

“Hello to you too, Akaacchi,” Oikawa says.

Keiji bows in greeting, just a bit. “Good evening, Oikawa-san. I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you.”

He raises an eyebrow, admittedly very elegantly. “You didn’t hear me singing with the door open. Alright.”

“We can’t all be focused on you,” Keiji murmurs, despite the fact that he has probably the least right to say that out of everyone in this choir. “I thought it was a CD or something.”

“Riiight.” Even while he’s turned away he can feel these brown eyes resting on him, and the crooked smile on Oikawa’s lips is hard to overhear. “You know, I saw you when you came here.”

“How? You were turned away from me,” he says without thinking and realises his mistake half a second later.

“Ha, so I’m right!”

He walked right into that. Damn it.

“I didn’t know you play the piano,” Keiji says lamely in a desperate attempt to shift the conversation away from his screw-up. If Oikawa notices – he definitely does – he doesn’t tell.

“I got in for piano and vocals,” he says and smiles when Keiji finally gives in and looks at him again. “Oh, I used to play the trombone too, but I’m totally out of practice. What about you?”

“Piano and violin.” His voice is more strained then he’d like to admit but this isn’t all too bad; if they can actually keep up a normal conversation that’s better than he initially hoped. “I play the flute too.”

Oikawa closes the piano lid and leans forward, resting his head on his hands. “Violin, huh? I always wanted to learn it, but I never got around to it …” Then he flashes a mischievous grin and cocks his head. “Teach me sometime?”

“Easier said than done. It’s a really difficult instrument,” is what Keiji says. _I do not have the patience to handle you more than once a week_ , is what he doesn’t say.

“I have time.”

“Do you really think I’d believe that?” None of them have time. It’s Karasuno.

Oikawa pouts, which instantly makes him look at least two years younger. “I’m making an effort to be nice to you here, play along a little, would you? You could at least text me sometime. You should have my number, if Tacchan delivered it like she told me.”

“I had no reason to believe it was really yours,” he says, truthfully for once. He’s never been the subject of bullying but there was someone in his year back at Fukurodani for whom it had started exactly like this.

“It is, don’t worry. Nekomata-sensei dropped some hints he’d like a duet with us sometime so I thought we could start by not being mean to each other.”

So that was the reason, even though it sounds like a feeble one. “You could have just talked to me.”

“Easier said than done,” Oikawa echoes his words from before with a knowing grin. “You’re pretty good at this ‘avoiding people’ thing. Okay, that and I might still have been a liiittle bit pissed at you. Just a little.”

And here he thought they’d been past that at that stage. Note, Oikawa seems like the kind of person to know how to hold a grudge.

“In the end, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore …” he says in a tone that indicates it does indeed still matter, then hums and looks at the ceiling. “We’ll have to get along sooner or later, better start now.”

It almost sounds like a challenge, and he thinks he’s had too many of those ever since his arrival, which wasn’t even all too long ago. “Let’s focus on not fighting first,” he says warily. Their conversation is going well for once, but there’s still tension between them – tension that could very quickly turn into another argument.

“I have no intention of hating you, Akaacchi,” Oikawa responds in a tone that is half cheerful and half … Something else, as if he’s looking right through him.

“Good, then we’re on the same page.”

He’s about to sit down and gather his sheet music when Oikawa asks, “Can you play _Spica_?”

It’s one of their songs, apparently written by a friend of one of the second years, and accompanied only by the piano. Keiji’s practiced it at home to cool down after his more urgent work, but the thought of playing it on a grand piano instead of his keyboard is too tempting to say no.

(That thing might be portable but he _really_ needs to take his E-Piano to his apartment somehow the next time he visits home. Or buy a new one, which sounds significantly easier.)

“Yes, but I mess up at some parts still,” he says. “Why?”

He receives a sheepish smile. “I didn’t have the time to practice it yet but I’d really like to sing it right now …”

Keiji’s mind blanks.

“No,” he blurts out.

“What ‘no’?” someone calls from the doorframe and the third year who gave him Oikawa’s number looks at them with wide eyes. Keiji has no idea what her name is but she reminds him of one of his friends from Fukurodani, Suzumeda Kaori. They have the same freckled face and the same light brown hair tied up in a high ponytail. “Did I miss anything?”

“Tacchan, hey,” Oikawa says and he may just be imagining it, but he sounds a little annoyed at her sudden appearance. Keiji himself couldn’t be happier about it.

“Yo, Toorun. You already set everything up? Nice work, guys.”

Soon enough some others follow her into the room and Keiji finds himself talking to a fourth year named Tashiro to get away from Oikawa’s attention. In the end, it’s all like it used to be, huh?

 

* * *

 

When Nekomata asks around, it turns out nobody has even started on writing a song for the competition. They all get scolded for not using the time given so far but Keiji thinks he doesn’t sound all that mad; it’s obvious he knows how daunting their schedules are even without choir. Still, he’s right – they do need something.

At least they’re rapidly improving with the songs they do have, and they’ve started some new ones today so they only need two more to fulfil the seven song quota for the concert. His baritone section especially is much more stable than the first times around, which he notes down as a success. They’re nowhere near a level on which they can perform on a stage but their basics aren’t half bad.

A more pressing issue, however, are the solos.

“We’ll be holding auditions for the solo parts at the practice camp,” Nekomata says. “Those of you who want one should make sure they’re prepared by then. Also, for the duet part in _Spica_ …” He clears his throat and flips through his sheet music. “I’d like Akaashi and Nametsu.”

Wait, what?

“Excuse me,” Keiji says quickly and stands up from his chair. “Are you sure?”

Nekomata flashes him one of those knowing grins he’s incredibly good at. “Yes, I am, unless you don’t want to. I won’t force anyone, but ah, it would be really good …”

“Isn’t the high part a tenor one though?” Mai chimes in. “I mean, I’d love to do it, but it’s supposed to be a male voice, right? I can reach the notes no problem, that’s not it, but there’s got to be a reason why it’s a male duet only.”

Right, that was what he wanted to say – well, that and a million other things, starting with ‘out of all the people in this choir, _me_?’

“The lyrics are ambiguous and you said it before, you can sing it without difficulties. I think the blend of your two voices would really compliment the song. Originally I was planning on having two boys, but I changed my mind when I listened to you two.” Did he catch some of their practice during their last break or does he mean them individually? Whatever it is, Keiji can hardly disagree. While he’s most certainly not on Mai’s level, their voices do fit each other and the general mood of the ballad.

But said mood is also a problem. It’s a really emotional song. He has no doubts Mai will deliver, but his confidence in himself isn’t quite as high.

“So, are you doing it? It could be a little hard to coordinate at first so I’d like you to start practicing it together as soon as possible.” Nekomata looks at Keiji, then at Mai, silently asking for their approval.

“I’m doing it!” Mai calls out. He can’t see her face right now but she’s most definitely beaming.

He tries to hold back his sigh but fails. What can he do, really? Decline? As a first year who has just been asked to sing a duet part in the best choir he’s ever heard? He’s not stupid enough to do that, and he really does want to try it. They’re practicing together already, it won’t even change their schedule too much.

“So am I,” he says.

 

* * *

 

“Ooooh, it’s so exciting, you guys!” Terushima says, his eyes sparkling. “I’m gonna audition too, can’t let my new best friends outshine me on the stage, can I?”

“I mean, you could,” Mai retorts and grins at him before shoving her chair into his hands. “And you could also stop talking and start helping out here.”

She has a point. Keiji doesn’t remember Terushima ever actually helping with anything regarding the choir room.

When they’re finished they leave together as always, except this time Mai is actually following them to the train station. She doesn’t say anything about visiting someone but by the time they notice, they’re already waiting for the train.

“Uh …” Terushima starts right as Keiji is about to ask about it. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to a friend’s place, and so are you,” Mai almost sing-songs and he suddenly has a really bad feeling about this. “Nekomata-sensei said we need to practice as soon as possible, didn’t he? And you can be moral support, Teru-kun.”

“Oh god, please don’t,” Keiji mutters. His social battery for this day is as drained as it can get and all he’s craving right now is some good old-fashioned solitude.

Thankfully, Mai giggles. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It’s my dad’s birthday tomorrow, I’m going home so we can celebrate right at midnight. Wanna come?”

“I’ll politely decline.” _Thank goodness she was joking._

“How big of a celebration are we talking?” One of the things you learn very quickly when you’re friends with Terushima is that whenever somebody so much as mentions as party, he’ll be there in an instant trying to find a way to attend, and the bigger the better, apparently. Keiji doesn’t see the appeal, or maybe the admittedly few parties he’s been at so far were just plain terrible ones to begin with.

“Around fifty people?” Mai guesses and Keiji furrows his eyebrows.

“Fifty?”

“Hey, the more the merrier!” she says with a big smile. “Just follow me then, Teru-kun. I think we all have to take the same train.”

However on earth she knows which train Keiji has to take even though he’s never mentioned it is beyond him, but there are many things about Mai he doesn’t quite understand. The same goes for Terushima – but he doesn’t hate it, not by a long shot. Even if he’s tired of socialising, having energetic friends has always been something he’s relished in; when he doesn’t, he often ends up never really doing anything other than stay in the background and observe, which is tiring in itself.

Most importantly, they don’t force him to talk but seem to enjoy his company nonetheless. He’s lucky, he thinks. It’s hard to find people like that, and here he has two of them.

Halfway through the train ride, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and when he checks the screen he sees a message from Oikawa.

_I think this Spica thing is the universe trying to tell you you should have played for me (•̤̀ᵕ•̤́_ _๑_ _)_ _✧_

_Learn it for yourself if you’re really that serious about it_ , he replies, a little more casual than he would have been in a direct conversation even though his point stands.

 _I’m not as good as you_ , comes the answer almost immediately, plain and to the point. It’s followed by, _I am the better singer though. Don’t ruin Nametsu’s duet for her ~_

He grips his phone a little tighter and frowns at the screen. Just when he thought they could get along, Oikawa had to say something like that, and Keiji has the distinct feeling that he’s doing it on purpose. It’s making him pretty much impossible to read.

Outside of their rehearsal room he feels a little more confident, so his reply sounds almost convincing even to himself.

_Trust me, I won’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do I prefer writing the romantic (well not yet but yknow) Akaoi or the platonic Akaterumai? the answer is yes


	5. Late Night Café

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's no café in this chapter. but coffee. but not late at night. but there is a scene late at night. does that make the title a lie or a half truth?
> 
> I MEAN IT WHEN I SAY DON'T GET USED TO IT although three chapters in one month has got to be a new record for me. and then there's writers who churn out a chapter a week and it's even gOOD teach me your ways ;_________________;
> 
> this is only this long because of that Akaoi scene that has no business being as fluffy as it is. funnily enough, it is the first scene in this fic so far that I've actually planned beforehand. it just went into a completely different direction ...
> 
> sleep-deprived kaash is just me projecting ... it's 2am ....... I'm not tired though °^° I totally WILL be dead tomorrow ... (I'll have to be out of the house by 8 rip Nija 1998-2017 I shall be remembered as that one girl who really liked Akaoi)
> 
> as always I'll check for mistakes tomorrow, I'm sure there's some in there but my post-first-edit-later mentality is the one thing about my writing that's actually consistent ... well that and that I've never once uploaded anything before midnight. except that next gen captains thing. because it was Christmas. but I'm not counting that.
> 
> disclaimer: I don't drink coffee. I want to start but caffeine makes me tired so there's no point to it. I have no idea how it works. I hope I won't have it come up again ...

Oikawa isn’t talking to him.

Well, okay, he’s not really trying to change that, but Keiji does think it’s kind of strange – he hasn’t received any other texts from him nor do they talk in practice, yet he can’t shake off the feeling of being watched whenever they are near each other. It’s better than arguing if nothing else.

Their song is … Well, Terushima still seems as excited about the idea as ever and they got Mai and even a second year Terushima has met in the cafeteria named Semi to help them out, but with every day passing it seems to get less likely for them to actually do it. Even when he’s trying, Keiji can’t think of anything, and the other three have similar problems. Since they should have at least a sample ready this week, he doubts it’ll actually work.

He hasn’t had the chance to catch up with Bokuto either. At least Shimizu asked him to come to their next concert last rehearsal, which should be doable, as it is right the weekend after the practice camp.

Speaking of practice camp …

“What do you wear to a practice camp in the mountains?”

He can almost hear his mother shrugging on the other end of the line. “Depends which mountains you’re talking about.”

“Yukiyama, apparently.” It already sounds cold, but with the weather finally starting to feel a little more like it’s supposed to in May, he doubts he’s going to need his warm jacket. The small youth hostel they’re staying at, courtesy of Karasuno, obviously, isn’t all that high up either.

“Hm, you always went to different places at Fukurodani, right?”

He can guess what she’s about to say, so he quickly shakes his head as if that makes any difference over the phone. “Never to the mountains though.” Come to think of it, his travels have always been to warmer regions so far.

“Then … Just pack whatever you feel like,” she says very helpfully.

“You of all people should know that my gut instinct is good for nothing.” He knows exactly where he’s got that from, too. His mother is as much of an observer as he is, just way more cheerful about it.

He didn’t even mean to ask her about this but since she called him anyway to see how he was doing, he figured it couldn’t hurt. Still, there are probably other people with more experience around him. Shimizu for example, whose phone number he has now – unbeknownst to Terushima, of course – seems like the responsible kind of person, plus this is already her second year here. But asking her out of the blue seems a little impolite.

He considers himself fairly reasonable so he’s probably overthinking it. In the end, they’re most likely going to be inside most of the time, and then it doesn’t even matter. But it is his first time preparing for a trip completely on his own and some small voice inside him keeps asking these annoying questions starting with ‘what if’.

“Come on, Kei-chi, you’re not a stupid kid,” his mother voices his thoughts fairly accurately. She’s probably perfectly able to tell what’s going on inside him right now, always has been. “And if it’s really too cold, you can always steal clothes from your friends. You do have friends, right?”

“Are … Are you trying to insult me?”

“Just making sure.”

He smiles involuntarily – he likes his newfound freedom but he does find himself missing his mother a lot.

 

* * *

 

One thing Keiji has not missed in any way is the departure by bus.

It’s not that he doesn’t like long bus rides; he does, they’re calming and a nice time to just let your thoughts wander for a change. Depending on the group there can be a lot of funny stories to tell (he distinctly remembers Konoha, Komi, and Sarukui, three of his Fukurodani senpai, playing an impromptu game of poker with various punishments for losing in the last row).

However, actually getting on the bus, checking everything, dodging complaints about seating, the advisors trying to make important announcements that nobody listens to … That’s a different story.

It doesn’t help that it’s five in the morning.

He’s clinging to his paper cup of coffee as if his life depends on it – and it probably does, so he will defend it with everything he has. He doesn’t quite trust his ability to stay awake without it.

With what little semblance of thought process he can muster in his current state, it is at least clear that he will not, under any circumstances, sit next to Terushima. The best choice would most likely be Shimizu, who doesn’t talk much and doesn’t seem like she’d already have a seat neighbour, at least he hasn’t seen her be particularly close to anyone in choir. If he asks her now, he might have a chance.

“Heeeey, earth to Aka-kuuun!”

He flinches at the sudden voice directly next to his ear and almost drops his coffee. He hopes the glare he sends Mai gets his message across, that being ‘never do that again’.

She doesn’t seem fazed by it in the slightest. “Are you finally listening to me or are you still asleep? Anyway, Teru-kun says he’s gonna snatch a spot in the back so we can all sit together!”

Keiji doesn’t have the energy to complain and there goes his plan.

He just hopes he won’t die before they even reach the hostel.

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, the first person to fall asleep on the entire bus was Terushima, and now his head is resting on Keiji’s shoulder while he’s snoring loudly. Some people in the front are singing, among them Nekomata and their mandatory female companion, a young and strict woman called Ono who he thinks is the advisor of one of the smaller orchestras. The latter is especially noticeable since while she might be a good orchestra advisor, she’s completely off-key.

He managed to snatch a window spot at least, buried in the back left of the bus, and Mai, next to Terushima, is playing some game on her phone with headphones on. Maybe his worries were baseless after all. The other two people in their row, Shimizu and, surprisingly, Misaki (why is she here? She’s not even in the choir), are also only quietly talking. It’s nice.

Practice camp from alleged hell is starting out well enough.

After about three hours they stop at a highway rest area and while he’d prefer to just sit and maybe fall asleep, his stomach is grumbling and he’s already eaten most of his snacks.

“Terushima,” he says and taps his friend’s shoulder. “Wake up. Or at least get off me.”

No response besides some more snoring. Mai giggles. “Teru-kun,” she sing-songs, “didn’t you say you’d make this bus ride a big party?”

As if on command, his eyes snap open and he sits up straight in record speed. “Are we there?”

“Incredible,” Keiji mutters. Mai is like the Terushima whisperer.

When they step out of the bus, a cool breeze is blowing but it’s not unpleasant, and he didn’t realise how much he needed to stand up and move his legs, not to mention eat. He feels a little more awake than before, too, though just barely. Even before food, his first priority is to get another cup of coffee.

(Keiji has a feeling he’s going to rely on caffeine a lot.)

Thankfully the small store is mostly empty, save for some of the choir members and a few tired looking employees. There’s no one else at the coffee machine and it doesn’t have a lot of options, so he presses the button for plain black coffee. A second year behind him laughs. “That suits you.”

The senpai in question is someone whose name he vaguely remembers as Sawamura. He’s a bass and not really in his general peer group so they haven’t really talked yet, and he only remembers him because Terushima, who may not be as straight as originally assumed, has pointed out twice now that he finds him hot. Not that Keiji can argue with that. Sawamura definitely works out sometimes, and it shows. Mostly though it only makes him feel guilty for not exercising as much as he’s been meaning to, although he’s still in shape.

He takes the cup and steps aside so that Sawamura can use the machine. He also takes his coffee black and Keiji thinks they could become friends.

“Akaashi … Keiji, was it?” Sawamura’s smile is warm and strangely fatherly. He seems like the kind of person his friends accidentally call ‘dad’. “I like your duet with Nametsu in _Spica_ , your voices really complement each other.”

He’s been hearing that a lot lately. In fact, it’s getting annoying. They’ve been practicing really hard and still the only thing that ever gets commented on is that – but well, they’re far from Karasuno standard yet so he shouldn’t complain. “Thank you,” he says simply.

“I’m Sawamura Daichi.” Right. Daichi. That was his first name.

“Daichi!” someone whose voice Keiji immediately recognises as Oikawa’s shouts from the other side of the shop. “Sensei’s looking for you!”

“No stupid nickname?” Keiji murmurs to himself and Sawamura laughs.

“It’s actually Dai-chi with a hyphen. You know, like Dai-chan, but …”

Okay, that makes more sense (and Keiji doubt Oikawa’s nicknaming skills).

Not a second after Sawamura leaves to see what he’s needed for, Terushima pops up in the edge of Keiji’s vision like some demon summoned by good-looking people.

“Leave some for me, will ya?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keiji replies and takes a sip from his coffee. It’s not as hot as it should be and definitely not as strong, but it’ll have to do.

Terushima looks up at him and pouts. “You have Oikawa-san already.”

“Wait, what?”

“We’re leaving!” Tashiro calls and Terushima darts away immediately. Keiji doesn’t know whether he had coffee, but if he didn’t, he should probably not be given any or he’s going to run into any lamppost standing in his way. Usually it’s energising to see him like this, today is not usually.

He drinks the whole paper cup of coffee on the way to the bus and feels no different than before when he sinks back into his seat. His friends, however, seem to.

“’kaash! Rooming!” Terushima says with a wide grin on his face. “Nekomata said each room has a bunk bed, so you’re totally rooming with me, right?”

The rational part of Keiji’s brain immediately declines, the adventurous one, which is usually overpowered by the former but not while he’s working on three hours of sleep and two large cups of black coffee, makes him shrug and say, “Sure.”

 

* * *

 

It’s one PM when they arrive at the hostel and two thirty when they’re finally let into their rooms. The caffeine didn’t do too much in the end and Keiji feels like he’s dreaming in a way, only barely registering what Ono says when she hands Terushima the key card to their room.

“I’ll take the top bunk!” his friend shouts as soon as they step through the doorway and Keiji doesn’t mind in the slightest, as he was planning to drop onto the first vaguely matress-y looking thing anyway and promptly does so.

“When’s practice gonna start again?” he hears Terushima say as he climbs up the ladder.

“At four,” Keiji mumbles into his pillow. A nap right here and now sounds very tempting, but he knows for a fact that once he’s out, he’s _out_ , and he can’t count on Terushima to wake him up.

(Why does Keiji have to be the responsible one again?)

At least he can rest a bit, and on an actual bed too. They were usually staying at schools on their trips at Fukurodani, futons shoved together in an empty classroom. This feels more like a hotel, and a very modern one too – that’s the power of Karasuno, he supposes. They probably get more money than they can spend.

“You coming to check out the cafeteria?”

Another tempting suggestion, he has to admit. It’s probably better to get up and move instead of accidentally falling asleep, plus he could use some food, but this bed is just so comfortable …

He hears the sound of someone opening the door but doesn’t bother to turn around. Too much effort. Laying down might not have been the best idea he’s ever had.

“Terushima-kun, could you come with me for a sec?” He vaguely recognises the voice as that of Tachibana Ryuuko, the girl that came into the room when he and Oikawa where talking. It feels like it has happened yesterday, but there’s actually been quite some time in between today and then. Mostly he’s settled into a routine, and while they’re challenging and much more fun than high school, the days are starting to blend into each other.

Terushima, thankfully, doesn’t start hitting on her or anything of the likes, which he can imagine everyone is fairly grateful for. Maybe he’s sending Keiji a wink or something, he can’t see it anyway.

The door falls shut behind them and he tells himself to get up so that he won’t fall asleep. _One more minute_ , he thinks.

 

* * *

 

If Keiji falling asleep by accident and missing or almost missing something important because of it is going to turn out a running gag by the universe, he is less than amused.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Nekomata for the third time ever since stumbling into their practice room with only a vague idea of what’s going on and receives only a knowing smile and a pat on the shoulder before turning around to drop onto the seat Terushima has miraculously saved him.

Now that he had at least a little sleep and is capable of feeling things beyond irritation again, with embarrassment clearly leading the charge, he almost wishes he’d just slept through all of the rehearsal instead of missing only the first half of it.

“Hey, at least you were right on time for the break,” Mai says as she flips through the _Spica_ sheets before taking out a water bottle. “Most people probably didn’t even notice you were gone.”

“I did though!” Terushima chimes in.

Keiji glares at him and growls, “Why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I wanted to but I thought you’d kill me if I did,” he defends himself. “And you were sleeping so peacefully. You’re really pretty when you’re sleeping, you know.”

“Please don’t hit on me as well,” he sighs more than he says it and Mai almost spits out her drink.

“ _Denied_ ,” she huffs out.

“What do you mean, ‘as well’? When do I ever hit on people?” Terushima pouts. “I mean, except for Shimizu-san. And Sawamura. And the cute third year from the orchestra. And …”

“We get your point, Teru-kun.” Mai waves him off and eyes her water bottle warily, as if contemplating if it’s safe to take another sip. “Just start playing in your own league, will you?”

“I _am_ ,” he says and sounds very offended, though Keiji thinks it’s mostly fake. He can’t deny his friend is attractive – not really his type, but attractive nonetheless – and most certainly knows that. Still, he doubts there is anyone in Shimizu’s league but herself.

Mai shrugs and shoots him a smile. “Just don’t start flirting with me, I’m most definitely not interested.”

“That’s pretty harsh,” Keiji murmurs and raises an eyebrow. “But the same goes for me.”

“I would _never_ , friendship is something sacred!” He almost believes it, an incredible feat. “But as your friend, I can make you as many compliments as I want.”

“Alright, break’s over!” Misaki calls from the front and the group quickly reassembles, Mai waving her goodbye as she disappears back into the alto section. From everything he’s gathered, the second year is actually here to help them with choreography, something he greatly appreciates – Nekomata is a great director, but the movement part is a little bit wonky so far and they’re going to need to have a good visual performance as well.

Fifteen minutes in, he regrets having that thought. The schedule she’s written on the whiteboard in front of them is frankly insane, and the steps she’s talking about are going to be really complicated. He isn’t particularly athletic, which could really be a problem. At least he’s going to get in shape?

Now he’s somewhat happy he took that involuntary nap, as he probably would have passed out from sheer exhaustion if he hadn’t.

 

* * *

 

This hostel has many strengths, food isn’t one of them. Dinner is edible, filling, and most importantly healthy, but not more. All of them have been sweating so the showers are going to be packed, so he eats his food quickly without too much conversation before hurrying to the bathroom to get clean.

It’s nine PM when he finishes drying his hair and at this point he’s ready to just fall into bed and never wake up again. Okay, maybe wake up eventually. It’s only the first day and he’s already noticing his stamina isn’t what it used to be, not that it has ever been great to begin with.

So naturally he’s surprised, and not positively, when he finds Terushima sitting on the floor of their room with two other first years, playing what looks like a really intense game of UNO surrounded by bags of chips.

(He was wondering why he didn’t show up to dinner, now here’s his answer.)

“Can’t you do this literally anywhere else,” Keiji says and stares down at the trio, but one of them, a brown-haired boy he recognises as a tenor called Futakuchi Kenji that Mai apparently shares a class with, wags his index finger at him.

“Shush, I’m about to win this.”

“Do your best,” a blonde girl he has never talked to before says with an innocent smile. Keiji can see her cards from where he’s standing – one draw four, one draw two, and one zero, both of which are red. Yes, she’s got this in the bag.

Still, he’d appreciate if they moved elsewhere.

He sits down on his bed and slowly watches Futakuchi’s face fall when the girl plays her cards without even remotely looking smug about it. He makes a mental note to never play poker with her.

“Yumi!” Terushima exclaims with a horrified expression. “You traitor!”

“There are no alliances in UNO and you still have to draw six cards, though,” she says.

The game goes on for another five minutes and Futakuchi actually manages to lose despite having had only two cards when Yumi won. Terushima tries to high-five Keiji but is too far away, so he just ends up slapping the air.

“C’mon, join us for the next one, ‘kaash!” he says. “Don’t win though.”

He really did plan on going to bed, and his body is screaming for it, but he can’t just let that last sentence slide.

“Is that a challenge, Terushima?”

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t win. Not once. He doesn’t lose, either, but he still feels defeated. At least it’s not Monopoly.

“Goodnight then,” Yumi, whose full name, as he has finally learned, is Fukui Yumi, says and finally leaves them alone. His phone says it’s eleven thirty.

“Man, that was fun! Wanna play another round?”

“Do you never get tired?” Keiji retorts and sighs. “We have to get up at seven, so let’s go to sleep already.”

“Okay, okay. But we’re playing again tomorrow, right?”

He still has to win a round, the answer is obvious. “Of course.”

“You know, competitive ‘kaash is way cooler than tired, pissed off ‘kaash.”

“Just go to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

Terushima snores.

He knew that from the bus. It’s not a surprise. Keiji remembers thinking it’s a bad idea to room with him back when he asked him, and now he knows why. Damn his sleep-deprived self for not being smarter.

It’s past midnight now and Terushima fell asleep pretty much immediately after laying down, but sadly, that’s no relief. He thought he could finally catch some rest at night, not feel like he’s living next to a sawmill.

Falling asleep in broad daylight in the middle of the day? Sure, no problem. Falling asleep in the same room as Terushima? Apparently impossible, no matter how he tries to hide under his pillow and blanket.

_Screw it, this won’t work._

He sits up on his bed, takes the sheet music for _Spica_ from his night table, stands up, and quickly puts on something vaguely resembling an outfit that isn’t his pyjama.

The hostel is small enough to not be confusing and he finds a spot to practice quickly, on a small, fairly secluded terrace.

Now that he’s here he regrets not bringing a jacket, as it still gets fairly cold at night, but he doesn’t feel like going back and getting it. A dim lantern provides him with enough light to read – if he can’t sleep, he might as well practice. It’s a duet part, sure, but Mai is still miles above him and it can’t hurt to polish it on his own.

He wishes he had an instrument but he even left his violin at home. There’s a piano in the common room of the hostel, he could use that, but the chances of waking someone up are too high. It’s right next to some of the sleeping rooms.

Well, practicing acapella has only ever helped him improve, he supposes.

He hums the part leading up to his first solo line and immediately loses track of it, stumbling over his first word, which is only one syllable long of all things. He blames it on his lack of sleep and focus and starts over again.

“ _Linked in fate, bound by duty_ …” It’s a weird enough passage on its own, but it just sounds so wrong without Mai’s first line leading into it. Usually, Mai’s last word and his first word of each line are in unison before they go on like this, kind of like a chain as the song suggests. Singing it alone feels hollow, even if the lyrics could stand on their own.

He decides to just quietly sing Mai’s part, too, as to not confuse himself any further. “ _The road they’ve gone, hands linked / in fate, bound by duty / calls to lead them apart_ …” Wait, no, that’s not an ‘apart’, it’s ‘astray’, he must have read that wrong … “ _Duty calls to lead them astray to the lights / of one million suns_ —”

“So I was right, it _is_ you I’ve heard.”

“I was just getting it right, why would you interrupt—” He quickly stops himself when he sees who was talking. He should have recognised that voice, damn it.

Oikawa smiles but in the dim lighting he can’t see if it looks all that earnest. “Sorry, but you weren’t getting it right at all.”

He wants to protest but gives in, breathing out slowly. “I wasn’t.”

“What are you doing out here this late?” he asks and sits down on a bench across from Keiji.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“You didn’t, though.”

He’s too tired to play along. “I can’t sleep. Terushima’s too loud.”

“Right, you’re rooming with Teru-chan …” How on earth he’s close enough with him to use a nickname is beyond him, but then again, the two of them aren’t all that close either and he’s still Akaacchi for some reason. “Sorry. He does seem like the kind of person to snore, as say my great people skills.”

“You just saw him on the bus, didn’t you,” Keiji deadpans.

“ _Specifics_ …” He looks away at nothing in particular. “I’m much luckier. Dai-chi is dead quiet. Or maybe just really dead. I haven’t checked for a pulse yet.”

Oikawa and Sawamura in the same room? He has seen them be friendly before, but he always assumed it was just an acquaintanceship more than a friendship. “Why are you still awake then?”

“I’m a night person,” Oikawa says as if it was obvious. “It’s nice to be outside at this time, and the stars are really pretty here.”

The stars? Keiji looks up and realises he’s right – back at Karasuno they weren’t really in the most urban area either but now the only light source are the lanterns few and far between, so the night sky is indeed breathtaking, painting spills of white and bright blue all over the black.

“You’re ruining your sleeping schedule,” he says a little quieter than he meant when he lowers his head again.

“And you aren’t ruining yours?”

“No, Terushima is.”

They’re silent for a while but it’s not uncomfortable at all, unlike he would have assumed. The world is quiet around them and speaking doesn’t seem necessary, as it would only disturb it. In this moment, he almost believes they could have something other than the strange not-quite-rivalry thing they have right now.

Then, without a word of warning, Oikawa stands up and steps behind him, and he only realises what he’s doing when he places his wool cardigan over Keiji’s shoulders.

“What?”

“Do you want to freeze to death? I can see you shivering, you know.”

He wasn’t even aware he has been. It doesn’t feel all that cold anymore, to be perfectly honest – and certainly not now. He hopes the dark hides the blush that’s appearing on his face right now if his cheeks heating up is any indication. What is Oikawa thinking, suddenly being all cute after not even speaking to him most of the time? Is this some sort of tactic?

It doesn’t help that this jacket is actually really soft and comfortable.

“Now you’re going to be cold,” he manages to say and tries to look Oikawa in the eye, not failing spectacularly for once in his life.

“No, because I was smart enough to put on a warm sweater, unlike you. A t-shirt? Really?”

That’s what he gets for getting dressed as quickly as possible.

“I can deal with cold,” he lies and Oikawa raises an eyebrow. “Heat is more of a problem.” The latter is actually true, but it’s extreme temperatures in general that throw him off. Can’t the world be at a perpetual state of 20° Celsius, please?

“Okay, fine, if you want to believe that …” He holds out his hand. “Give it back, then.”

 _Uhm, no_ , is what his mind says immediately and for once since his arrival at Karasuno he has enough control over himself to not blurt it out. Instead he stays quiet and sends Oikawa the gaze Bokuto once dubbed ‘the Akaashi stare of severe discomfort’ (before asking how you write that in kanji). It seems to work.

“Or not. But that means you owe me.”

“You gave it to me in the first place, I’m just playing along.”

Oikawa pouts, a look that seems to suit him in a really strange way. “Be a little more grateful to your senpai, Akaacchi.”

It’s right then when it hits him that he absolutely has not been treating Oikawa the way he should have – he _is_ his senpai, and he’s always made a great deal out of most of his senpai-kouhai relationships to stay just that. Bokuto is different, of course, but even him he treats with respect, though admittedly half of that is usually sarcasm.

But it’s okay right now, isn’t it? The atmosphere around them is fairly relaxed. Maybe he shouldn’t care so much; they’re not in high school anymore, after all.

He knows he probably shouldn’t push his boundaries, but … “I will be if _senpai_ stops calling me by that stupid nickname.”

“It’s _cute_ ,” Oikawa says in a tone of voice incredibly similar to Terushima when he’s defending himself from likely true accusations.

“It’s silly.” He actually doesn’t mind it too much, although he would prefer his actual name. This one’s too affectionate in a way that sounds fake.

“You have no taste.”

“Said the one calling Sawamura-san ‘Dai-chi’.”

“Okay, give the cardigan back.”

Keiji can’t help but grin, just a little bit, as he pulls the fabric closer. “Actually, I think I’ll keep it.”

If he had his phone, he’d take a photo of Oikawa’s shocked expression. “You’re a demon with the face of an angel.”

“A jacket-stealing demon, alright,” Keiji retorts, efficiently ignoring the second part of the comment.

“And I’m the fairy tale prince fighting you for the affection of a princess …” He crosses his arms, then raises an index finger to his lips, looking around for a moment. “Where’s the princess though?”

“Asleep, probably.” Like both of them should be. He doesn’t know what time it is but he’s going to feel this tomorrow … Later today … For sure.

“Speaking of which …” Oikawa’s playful expression drops for something that looks like genuine concern, which Keiji’s immediately wary of. He can deal with them bantering a bit before going back to mostly ignoring each other. He cannot deal with signals this mixed. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? It’s still funny now, but sleep deprivation isn’t a good thing, especially not during camp. Last year someone had to go to the hospital, you know.”

He’d think he’s messing with him if he hadn’t heard that story from Tashiro before. Keiji sighs. “I’ll have to be.” And if he has to throw Terushima out. With how quickly his friend was out, he doesn’t doubt he could sleep on the floor outside of their room.

“Maybe switch rooms with someone?”

And make them go through the same hell? He shakes his head. “It’ll work. Somehow. There’s got to be a way to shut him up, or maybe it’s just today.”

“Dai-chi sleeps like a stone,” Oikawa says and a fragment of that mischief is back in his voice.

“No,” Keiji deadpans. He will _not_ share a room with Oikawa. Besides, for all he knows, he snores as well or even talks in his sleep. He can see that happen.

“Your own choice.” He shrugs and shoots him a smile. “I’m going to bed now, you know where to find me. Good night, Akaacchi!”

 _I have no idea where your room is._ Not that it matters.

Keiji always thought ‘good night’ sounded like an intimate thing, especially when he’s saying it, so all that comes out is a forced, “See you.”

Although he wouldn’t be surprised if they stopped talking from here on out, _again_.

Deciding it’s useless anyway he goes back to his room as well. It’s only when he changes back into his pyjamas that he realises he still has Oikawa’s cardigan.

He _did_ say he’d keep it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you said that but give it back Akaashi, that's technically thievery


	6. HEART↑BEAT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's such an idol-ish title. I blame Love Live. if it's not clear, that's the name of the original, I just haven't mentioned it yet ~
> 
> does anyone even believe me anymore when I say that these quick uploads could stop at any given moment? because. they could. but I do have a big essay to procrastinate so it's not likely. unless I've just jinxed myself by saying that. in that case, I take it back. uhm.
> 
> half of this chapter feels like a fever dream and that's possibly because I've been writing it in very small doses instead of big parts at once like I usually do ... if it's a bit jumpy / uncoordinated, that's why. don't do that sort of thing. unless it works for you. just do what works for you. I have no idea what I'm talking about
> 
> I still can't decide whether I want to use "and/or" as a phrase in this, the slash just looks wrong but I want to. ;A; author's problems, huh ... I usually do it but it doesn't seem to fit this one ... if I was writing this from Tooru's perspective I absolutely would. although I'm starting to feel very comfortable with Akaashi, which I guess is a good thing, he used to give me problems. I kinda wanna do oneshots for this later from the POV of other characters, hmmmm ...
> 
> I can thankfully say I've never passed out during practice. I did, however, once pass out during music class when we were singing, which is essentially the same thing.
> 
> of course Iwa-chan's gonna be in this Iwaoi friendship is too important to me to not write it. there's also some other characters that I've semi-planned in (because let's face it, I don't really PLAN plan) that I'm pretty excited for! the cast is uncharacteristically small for me so far, but there's gonna be more. just feel like saying that because there's really not many characters yet ... uh.

“You look terrible,” Terushima says as he’s pouring more milk into his cereal bowl.

“No shit,” Keiji grumbles. He’s surprised he can even sit at this table, let alone function enough to speak, and blames those abilities on the three and a half cups of coffee he has downed in half an hour.

Maybe he’ll have to take Oikawa up on that offer after all, even though their meeting last night feels like a dream. He knows it wasn’t because in order to dream, you need to be asleep.

Terushima gasps. “Did you just _swear_? You’re confusing me, ‘kaash.”

“I’d swear too if I was this tired,” Mai chimes in, places her tablet on the table and sits down next to Terushima. “Is that jacket new?”

Awake and rational Keiji would never wear Oikawa’s cardigan where anyone can see it. Tired Keiji who’s stopped giving half a crap about anything that doesn’t involve a bed just thinks it’s comfortable, looks nice, and smells really good. He usually wears darker colours but its beige looks fairly good on him, as far as his sleep-deprived self can tell, but mostly it’s just so _soft_. He deserves this cardigan. Definitely more than Oikawa does.

“Uhm, actually, that’s a cardigan.” Terushima waves his spoon around. “Funny, Oikawa was wearing a similar one yesterday.”

Mai turns her head to look at him with a bewildered look on her face. “How do you know that? And it’s Oikawa- _san_.”

“Don’t you know what the difference between a jacket and a cardigan is?”

She furrows her eyebrows. “Pretty sure a cardigan’s a jacket. Although a jacket doesn’t have to be a cardi— Wait, that’s not what I meant!”

He completely ignores her and looks at Keiji instead. “Anyway, how’re you gonna survive practice?”

Good question. How is he? He really doesn’t want to end up like the guy who had to go to the hospital.

“I’m sure Nekomata-sensei will understand if you need sleep,” Mai says with a concerned look.

“I can’t miss too much.” And it’s not like that would fix anything – he has a duet part, damn it, and they’re supposed to preview the original song today. He thinks he heard some of his fellow first years talk about one they actually have, unlike his little trio.

“Yeah, power through it!” He doesn’t have the energy to tell Terushima it’s his fault he’s even in this state. Keiji has never taken all-nighters well, _especially_ not when he was tired to begin with.

Mai raises an eyebrow, not very convinced. “Teru-kun, make sure to catch him when he passes out.”

“Don’t you mean ‘if’?” Terushima asks and Mai shakes her head.

“Nope.”

“Don’t jinx it,” he murmurs and sighs. Granted, he doesn’t really trust himself to even close his eyes right now, but he’s going to survive this day somehow, and without landing in the hospital room. If they even have that. They probably do.

He’s going to make it out of sheer pride – how would he look if he didn’t? He’s going to slay those dancing lessons and physical and vocal exercises and being up front with Mai for their duet and looking at it from a rational perspective, he should probably ask Nekomata for a break after all.

But no. No way. _Never_.

 

* * *

 

Pride is a powerful motivator, and after three laps on the hostel’s track field Keiji feels almost awake again, though in a strange, fake way. If he could do lucid dreaming, it would probably feel something like this.

Nekomata decided they weren’t working out enough – a funny thing for a man of his stature to say, but apparently he’s actually really athletic, it just doesn’t show – so they’ve been throwing short training intervals in between each song. This is the third one for today, apparently but he can’t for the life of him remember what they did before that.

As expected, Terushima doesn’t run out of stamina while running faster than everyone else, and he’s already going extra rounds. Some people would accuse him of showing off, Keiji thinks he’s probably just having fun.

Mai next to him is panting heavily, fringe sticking to her forehead. Her hair is tied up in a bun now, but some strands are falling out, and she looks just about done with all of this. Guess she’s not the sporty type, despite her fascination with watching it on TV.

Keiji is … Holding up, he supposes. He slowed down mostly for Mai and because he feels that if he goes faster, he’ll accidentally run into a tree. There are hardly any around, but you never know.

Bokuto would probably love this, which Keiji does not understand. Being active is one thing, but unless he really likes the sport – like badminton, which he loved to do back in high school – he doesn’t want to burn himself out too much.

“Please … Go on ahead … Without me …” Mai heaves like a dying woman in a survival horror movie.

“Is everything alright over there?” someone shouts from behind them and Sawamura catches up to (or rather almost laps) them, the only person here looking like someone should look when doing basic stamina exercise, a bit out of breath but mostly fine.

“We’re fine,” Keiji lies.

“Are you sure?” Sawamura cocks his head and looks at them with this fatherly gaze again. “Nekomata-san did say taking breaks is fine.”

“I’ll die before I take a break,” Mai coughs out. At this rate, she might really do the former. At least they’re still running, if very slowly, which is admirable.

Keiji and Sawamura exchange a look and nod at each other, silently agreeing to both stay with her in case something happens. You never really know around here.

“Daaaai-chiiiiii,” a voice that’s distinctly Oikawa’s comes from the back and he suddenly thinks that if they keep this up, the entire choir will run with them. “Don’t just leave me behiiiiiind!”

“Yes,” Mai pants. “Leave me behind … Instead.”

This is all sounding like some comedy movie and Keiji thinks he might be dreaming after all.

“Sorry, Oikawa.”           

“You’re not sorry! Who are you, Iwa-chan?”

“I think I’m nicer to you than Iwaizumi would be,” Daichi says and Keiji can’t follow anymore.

“Wait, wait, _wait_ ,” Mai interrupts them in a voice that sounds almost alive again. “Iwaizumi? As in … Iwaizumi Hajime?”

Is that someone he’s supposed to know?

“Yup, the volleyball player! We’re childhood friends.” Oikawa sounds very smug about that, but it explains why Keiji hasn’t heard that name before. Mai’s really into volleyball, Keiji only likes playing it from time to time, but isn’t obsessed with it like she is.

“Oh my god, you need to get me an autograph,” she whispers in awe, all of her usual respectful distance to her senpai tossed out of the window.

Keiji doesn’t look behind him, but he’s sure Oikawa’s wearing a proud grin right now. “Sure, and of the rest of the national team too?”

Mai squeaks out something that sounds vaguely like a “yes”, much more energetic than just a minute before.

“And you, Akaacchi?”

“I’m good, thanks,” he says. There are some autographs he’d like to have, but they’re all from musicians. That’s more his world than sports are.

Someone shouts “woohoo! Third time lapping you!” from behind them and Terushima zooms past them with a speed you shouldn’t have during a longer run, a huge smile on his face.

All of this feels so surreal, and maybe that’s what leads to Keiji tripping over nothing and the world turning black when he falls backward, someone’s strong arms catching him and muffled voices calling his name before they, too, turn silent.

 

* * *

 

The bed he wakes up in smells like sanitiser and too much laundry detergent, and the first thing he sees is a bright lamp right above him. He hisses and closes his eyes, throws an arm over them when it’s still too bright, and is ready to drift back into sleep when he stops to think, _Wait._

Where is he?

“You’re awake,” a soft voice says, one that his mind attributes to Shimizu, but he’s not entirely sure.

“I thought you’d _died_!” That’s definitely Terushima though.

“I’m alive,” he says but it comes out too raspy. His throat feels dry, he needs to drink something.

“Thank god, I was really scared there. If Sawamura-san hadn’t caught you, it could have ended worse.” Mai? Wait, why are there three people here? That seems like a bit of overkill, especially with Shimizu present, who he’s not really close to.

He manages to turn around and open his eyes, only to be greeted by not three, but six people with varying degrees of worry on their faces.

Shimizu is standing by the door, face betraying nothing, next to Sawamura, who sighs in relief. Nekomata has just finished talking to who he assumes to be a nurse. Terushima is sitting on the bedside, tears in his eyes, Mai is shaking her head at him with a smile, and Oikawa stands up from his chair and strolls over to him, then pats Keiji’s head like someone who just took their dog to the vet and wants it to know he’s proud of it.

“Uhm,” he starts, but has no idea where to continue.

“You have a talent of waking up during breaks, it seems,” Mai says with a shrug, “so we all figured we’d check on you. You did miss most of practice though, we’re almost done.”

“Next time you’re not feeling up to practice, tell me and I’ll see what I can do,” Nekomata says and Keiji murmurs a quick, “yes, sensei”.

He sees Shimizu quickly type something on her phone, then nod at him in greeting before she leaves the room. Come to think of it, Bokuto probably knows about this if she does and is most likely worried sick. Provided ‘this’ is what he thinks it is. He does remember passing out during their run and can piece two and two together to find out he’s in a hospital room, but everything else is kind of unclear.

Wait, what kind of hospital room is it, even? A hospital room in the hostel or, well, a room in a hospital? That’s not what he wants to be remembered for.

His confused looking around the room must have not gone unnoticed, as Sawamura chuckles – he thinks he sees Terushima swoon a little – and smiles at him. “You’re still in the hostel, don’t worry. You just passed out from exhaustion. I, uh, think.”

“Sleep deprivation,” Mai throws in.

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Terushima asks.

“Of course not. Sleep deprivation is a form of exhaustion, sure, but exhaustion doesn’t automatically mean sleep deprivation …”

This conversation is starting to sound very familiar and Keiji can’t help a small laugh.

“Break’s over,” Nekomata says and looks at the watch around his wrist. “Akaashi, make sure to rest, everyone else will work double for you.” The look on his face indicates he’s not joking, despite the smile.

One by one they leave the room and Keiji stares for a moment, then sighs, and just as about Oikawa and Sawamura are about to go, calls, “Wait, please.”

 

* * *

 

He hates this and doesn’t bother hiding that fact when he comes into his new room and puts his bag down next to what used to be Sawamura’s bed. It seems Nekomata or whoever told it to Terushima back then lied, as this room doesn’t have a bunk bed like he said, but one normal one on each side of the room. It kind of reminds him of a dorm room he’s seen in an American TV series.

“I told you it was a good idea,” Oikawa says. He’s sitting on his own bed eating milk bread, some sheet music placed in front of him. “You’re going to thank me, trust me.”

He _hates_ this. But he can’t risk passing out again, and if he continues to room with Terushima, it’s likely to happen. Sawamura assured him he’d be fine, and that’s that.

“We’ll see just how good tonight,” Keiji says and sits down on his bed. It’s just as comfortable as his old one. “If you go out after midnight again, please do so quietly.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning to.” He hums and flips over a page. “Did you catch the original?”

“Ono-san showed me, yes.” It’s upbeat – really upbeat, pretty generic and happy-go-lucky but surprisingly good. Looks like Terushima was right after all and their main incentive was to make people happy. Also, his friend apparently has a solo in it, so he’s happy for him.

(Even though the song is severely lacking owls.)

There’s no sheet music for it yet since it was only a preview, but Terushima did give him the last two remaining songs. Neither of those can be described as happy, and he’s not quite sure what theme they’re actually going to have for the concert; there seems to be some of everything.

Oikawa marks a passage and twirls his pen around, scowling at the notes, then crosses something out again. Keiji can’t see a lot of it but from what he’s caught in practice, he seems to be the type to scribble all over his stuff, something he’s never done. Maybe he should start, there’s got to be a reason why people do it.

When the silence grows awkward, he decides to unpack his things, not that there’s many of them. The bedding is provided by the hostel, so it’s mostly clothes, and he has a déjà-vu to just yesterday in his former room, except this time it’s not all his stuff. At least now that he’s awake he’s smart enough to not wear Oikawa’s cardigan in front of him, but it stands out in his bag with all of his other clothes.

Or maybe he _should_ wear it, who knows. He still can’t read him at all, all he knows is that this is different from their meeting last night – despite the more casual situation they’re in now, the mood is somewhat heavy.

He really doesn’t like the thought of missing almost a whole day, the only reason why he agreed to this room switch in the first place. He can’t risk falling behind – not when he has a duet. He can’t afford to let everyone down more than he’s already likely going to, and it’s especially not fair toward Mai.

He should practice.

“Don’t overwork yourself,” Oikawa says and Keiji looks at him, only to find he’s still fixated on his sheet music. “We have to keep up with school as well while we’re here, and if you’d just told Nekomata-sensei from the beginning that you didn’t sleep, you probably wouldn’t have passed out. Being passionate is one thing, but don’t make the same mistakes others have before you.”

Right. He’s right. Of course he is. Keiji blinks, breathes in and out slowly, and lets himself fall onto the bed.

He completely forgot about school. Konoha once called him ‘the only rational person in the whole damn Fukurodani choir’, and he’s not sure when he has started discarding that idea.

In some way, he’s glad this is Oikawa he’s talking to and not Terushima, who would have probably encouraged him. After resting he’s not all that tired anymore, although he will most likely get a good night’s sleep unless Oikawa’s somehow worse than his friend, but there’s still no reason to push himself. School work still needs to be done, something he, shamefully, completely forgot about, and Ono did tell him to take it easy.

“I’m sorry,” he says without really meaning to. He figures he owes a lot of people apologies.

“Don’t be. This all just happened because you were really serious about this, right?”

Well, mostly it happened because his pride didn’t allow him to quit, but Oikawa’s way of phrasing it sounds a lot more flattering, so he’ll take it.

“As long as you promise not to scare me like that again … Thank god Dai-chi was there to catch you, I almost had a heart attack!”

“You sound an awful lot like Terushima,” Keiji murmurs. And then there’s Mai, who seems to have just taken it like any other thing that happens.

“Can’t I worry about my precious kouhai?” When Keiji turns his head, he’s actually looking at him now, pen still in hand. “If you die, I’ll never get my cardigan back.”

“Actually, me dying would be the only way for you to get it back,” he says before even thinking about it. Well, he really is going with the ‘it’s mine now’ narrative, he guesses.

“That is theft, just so you know.” He can almost _hear_ the pout. “And here I thought the meanest person I know is Iwa-chan.”

It takes Keiji a few moments to remember who that is. The … Professional volleyball player, alright. “Mai really freaked out back there. Is he that famous?”

“Don’t you know him? He’s super well-known ever since he got on the national team. He was the ace of our school and he’s really strong!” Oikawa exclaims very quickly, as if he’s been waiting to say all of this. “In our third high school year he even made it to the national finals! They lost but it was very close, and now he’s on the best college team in the whole country and on the national team as well ever since last year, and he’s a regular already.”

He smiles at that; he doesn’t know a thing about competitive volleyball but it’s clear that Oikawa’s really proud of his friend. “Will he come to our concert?”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll punch him. But he’s going to come anyway, just like I almost never miss any of his important matches …” Oikawa sighs deeply. “I’m kind of afraid of you meeting him though.”

He’s not sure why he would introduce them anyway, but he would like to meet that supposed childhood friend. “How so?”

The look on his face speaks of internal pain. “The jacket-stealing demon and _Iwa-chan_ … Not to forget Dai-chi … You’d all get along far too well, and I wouldn’t make it out alive.”

“That bad?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re all the _responsible_ type, the one that’s no fun,” he says as if the word itself is a crime, then glances at him and corrects himself, “Well, most of the time. But you’ll see what I mean when you meet him.”

Isn’t that supposed to be an ‘if’? Or is it just inevitable?

“Anyway, I think I’m going to sleep.”

“And you tell me I’m the responsible type,” Keiji says dryly. It’s only ten, and yesterday he was still outside after midnight.

“Unlike _some_ of us, I’ve actually worked today,” Oikawa defends himself and he would have been offended by that but he can tell he’s not serious. “And don’t even try to tell me it’s early, you need sleep even more than I do.”

Well, he has a point. He’s not particularly tired, but for some reason, he feels like he’s going to fall asleep pretty quickly.

 

* * *

 

It’s 1:48 AM according to his phone when Keiji returns from the cafeteria with a plastic bottle of water. He’s feeling a bit disoriented and very, very sleepy, but when he woke up in the middle of the night it was because he was thirsty and there was nothing in the room. He avoided stubbing his toe on anything on the way, which he considers a success.

After last night, this is blissful to say the least. Unlike Terushima, the only sounds from Oikawa are his steady breathing and the occasional soft sigh, both of which he finds calming for some reason. Maybe it’s just because he feared he’d end up suffering again.

He glances at his newly acquired roommate and finds him lying on his side turned to him, dark strands of hair falling in his face. He looks peaceful, fast asleep, strangely beautiful.

Keiji has the sudden urge to touch his hair to see if it’s as soft as it looks but stops himself in motion; if Oikawa woke up now there’d be no way to explain that. Even though there’s nothing wrong with it, right? He’s just curious and not quite awake …

A voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Bokuto is laughing at him for even thinking about it and as much as it hurts to admit, it’s probably right. This is one of those spur-of-a-moment things that you regret later and his bed does seem very welcoming, much more than potential awkwardness.

He lays down and stares at the wall for a moment before he closes his eyes and sleep pulls him into nothing again.

 

* * *

 

“Akaacchi,” someone’s voice seems to say, but he can’t tell whether he’s dreaming. It feels like there’s a wall of fog between it and him, muffling the word until he can barely understand it. “Akaaaaacchi …”

It’s only when he feels someone poking his cheek that he realises he’s being woken up, and not very nicely. His eyes want to stay shut but his reasonable side gets the better of him and he opens them slowly, squinting against the light falling into the room.

“You’re a pretty heavy sleeper,” Oikawa says. “You can be glad I’m a good person, unlike some people. I had those friends back in high school who’d draw on your face if you weren’t careful …” His tone suggests that has happened to him before.

Keiji turns around and finds him leaning on the edge of the mattress, his head resting on one hand while the other is _still_ poking him. He’s also very close. Too close, in fact.

He sits up quickly to get some distance between them and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh, praying that he’s not blushing. “Please don’t tell me I missed something again.”

“Oh, nothing important,” he sing-songs. “Only breakfast.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Just kidding.” So much for blushing – Oikawa’s giggle makes Keiji feel like murdering him instead. He can be glad this bed is so warm and comfortable or else he’d be up in a second.

“Didn’t you say you’re a good person?” It’s the biggest lie he’s ever heard; Oikawa Tooru is anything but. He’s terrible. The absolute worst.

“I _am_. I mean, I woke you up!”

Well, he has a point. He didn’t even think about setting an alarm and not for the first time wonders how he even survives on his own. If Oikawa hadn’t been here, he probably would have slept through breakfast or even more for real, and he can’t be mad about not stumbling into rehearsal all disoriented again.

“Thank you for that,” he says more out of obligation than actual gratitude. “And could you please get off my bed?”

“I’m not even on your bed,” Oikawa says but complies, and finally Keiji feels like he can breathe again. While he appreciates being able to sleep, this might be more complicated than he hoped.

 _It’s only two more nights_ , he tells himself. Two more nights, three more days, or two and a half if he’s being precise, and he hasn’t improved at all. Granted, that was mostly because he was severely sleep deprived or unconscious, but he can’t fall behind any further. He needs to make today count.

He puts his clothes on quickly – dark blue jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and Oikawa’s cardigan just to mess with him – and decides once and for all that he’s going to work harder than anybody else here.

“You have that look on your face again,” Oikawa says in a much more serious tone of voice than before. “I mean it when I say don’t overdo it.”

“I won’t,” Keiji replies but it doesn’t seem to work.

“That’s easy to say.”

Part of him wants to ask why he cares so much, but he doesn’t think he’d get a proper answer, so he just sighs and turns to the door – if he doesn’t leave soon, the bathroom will be packed. “I’ll be fine, really.”

It’s not that he’s annoyed he’s trying to help him. Maybe a bit, but he can’t blame him for taking care of people. What he hates is that Oikawa is able to read him like this while he’s a mystery to Keiji still. He always thought hiding his emotions was his strong suit, but it appears there are people that can look right through him, and it’s unsettling to say the least. For all his fooling around, Oikawa is clearly much smarter than one would initially assume.

He’s frustrating, mysterious in all the wrong ways, and Keiji wants to figure him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like that last sentence. it's nothing special but I like it.


	7. Reach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 95% of this chapter are my own practice camp experiences shoved into this universe, the other 5% are fluff. actually, that's a pretty good explanation for all of this fic.
> 
> you thought I wouldn't update again this month? well you were WRONG!!! unless you're in a timezone where it's already March, but is such a timezone even a thing? I have no idea. I know mine, and that of Japan, oh and the UK, too.
> 
> I'll be honest, the "we're repeating the same damn thing over and over again" part is just me salting by means of Akaashi. one should assume I'm done with it but I'll never be done salting over choir
> 
> and yes, singing everything after warming up your voice is a thing we did almost all the time before concerts, because it may be cheesy as hell but mY VOIC E ya feel
> 
> I don't really have anything else to say about this chapter tbh? I always have stuff to say but not today?? idk. enjoy. °^°

It’s not even twelve and Keiji already feels like Misaki’s constant “one, two, three, four” is going to be stuck in his head for the rest of the week.

The steps aren’t difficult per se, but getting them all right consecutively is going to be a challenge, he realises when he once again bumps into the second year behind him while Terushima almost runs Oikawa over. The rest of the choir doesn’t look better; even their senpai, who he expected to be used to this, are messing up a lot. It makes him feel a bit better about his own failure.

“Can’t we change the steps?” someone from the mezzo soprano section shouts when they come to a halt.

“Do you want it to look good?” Misaki says and sighs. “I know it’s difficult, but it’s going to pay off, I promise.”

Some part of him wants to ask if they shouldn’t get the singing down first, but he sees where the problem is. In the end, they’ll have to sing while moving, and the later they start practicing the more likely they are to make mistakes at the concert and the competition, which they definitely cannot let happen.

It feels kind of heavy, knowing that there will be people out there watching them like he did at the entrance ceremony. People will fall in love with their performance and admire them, and if they mess up those people will be disappointed. In a competition, it will lose them points. They’ve never had anything like that at Fukurodani, so the pressure is already high.

It’s so easy to fail.

“Pff, I’ll show her,” Terushima whispers, pulling him out of his thoughts. “We’re gonna be awesome by the end of this.”

“I’d like some of your enthusiasm,” Keiji murmurs. It’s true – people like him or Bokuto might seem simple, but it’s actually quite the daunting task to be excited about everything. He knows he can’t do it, that’s for sure.

They proceed to mess up several times again before Nekomata calls a break.

“Alright, all of you please take half an hour to recollect yourselves, you’re completely out of balance today.” That’s phrasing it nicely. They can’t seem to get anything right.

Futakuchi strolls over to them from the tenor section with a pissed off expression and a water bottle in his hand. “What are we, a show choir?”

“Just a choir who wants to make a good show,” Terushima answers and furrows his eyebrows. “Wait, that kinda makes us a show choir, doesn’t it?”

“That would make every choir a show choir,” Mai chimes in from behind them. “And hi, Kenji-kun!”

Keiji vaguely remembers her mentioning they went to the same elementary school, but Futakuchi doesn’t look too happy at the fact. “Don’t say that to me, it wakes bad memories.”

“Oh, come on, that was one time,” she sing-songs with a smile. He’s not sure if he wants to know what they’re referring to, if such a simple sentence can evoke such a reaction. “Anyway, want to take the time to practice?”

“Do you know what ‘break’ means?” Keiji mutters but he’s not too against the idea. Surely a bit of practice can’t help – he can hardly train the steps on his own, but they could go over their duet again.

 “Break means I’m getting my revenge,” Futakuchi announces and swoops a pack of UNO cards right out of his pocket. Why would he carry them around? Is he doing that all the time? Is he waiting for someone to challenge him to a duel of life and death?

“Yeah, ‘kaash, we couldn’t play yesterday because you ditched me for Oikawa! San!” Terushima exclaims and pouts.

“You could have just played without me.”

“It’s not the same without you!”

“You played without me before I came just fine.”

“Those were different times,” Futakuchi says.

“Oookay,” Mai drawls with raised eyebrows, “I have no idea what’s going on but I vote for Monopoly.”

“No,” Futakuchi and Keiji shut her down in unison. He knows what Monopoly entails. UNO might be the Monopoly of card games, but it has nowhere near the same destructive power.

“Monopoly sounds great!” Terushima, of course, is all for it. What else. He throws an arm over Keiji’s shoulders and pulls him closer, their cheeks pressing together as he waves his hand toward the sky, staring up. “We’ll get everyone,” he says with an almost manic tone of voice, “and we’ll build teams and the one that wins will bask in everlasting fame.”

“Speaking of which …” he hears Oikawa’s voice next to them, jumping straight into their conversation as if he had been part of it from the beginning. For as good as he is at straight up ignoring someone, he sure excels at inserting himself into situations that have nothing to do with him. “If we’re doing team Monopoly, I’m getting Akaacchi on my team.”

“No way!” Terushima calls and pulls Keiji even closer. Thank god he’s not as strong as Bokuto or he might suffocate. “I saw him first!”

“Actually, since we’re duet partners, it only makes sense for us to work together,” Mai argues and puts a hand on his shoulder.

He has no explanation for why they all want him on their team, none but a small, dark fear looming inside his mind. He was hoping it would never come up again, but if it somehow got to Terushima, it must have spread … But there’s no way, right? How would he know? The only one here who does is Bokuto, and he doesn’t think they’re even acquaintances. It can’t be.

His hope is shattered into a million pieces when Sawamura of all people passes by them and nonchalantly asks, “Is this about that infamous game at Fukurodani that lasted twelve hours? That Bokuto talked about?”

Keiji would run and hide if it wasn’t for his two friends essentially sandwiching him between them.

“The game that _you_ won, Akaacchi,” Oikawa adds with an almost malicious gleam in his eyes.

If this was a TV series, there’d now be dramatic music playing in the background. Honestly, he’s kind of waiting for someone to start playing something like that on the piano. Here he is, foolish for hoping to never be asked about that disaster of a Monopoly game ever again. This is why he’s sticking to more traditional games like chess lately.

“It’s not really a victory if you lose two friends and one relationship over it,” he breathes more than he says it. Not particularly close friends and not a particularly serious relationships, but enough to traumatise him for the rest of his life.

Mai giggles. Why is she never on your side when you need her? “Sacrifices have to be made, Aka-kun.”

“I’m still against Monopoly,” Futakuchi says – at least _someone_ is with him.

“Right, I’ve heard you lost pretty badly last time in high school,” Terushima says, even though Keiji has no idea how he knows that.

“Scratch that, I’m for Monopoly, when do we start?”

He’s so alone in this world. Alone and helpless. Should he just lock himself up in his room while the rest is playing or would that make him seem like a loner? Then again, as Mai has said, sacrifices have to be made. If it the choice is between his sanity and his reputation …

“In that case, ‘kaash is on my team!”

If they really want to organise a game with this many people, they’ll need to have really big groups. And probably the permission of Nekomata – but knowing him he’s going to join, so asking him to cancel the idea will most likely be a fruitless endeavour.

They should stick to rehearsing instead of trying to test such ungodly powers.

 

* * *

 

Mai has taken to singing everything she wants to say, and Keiji can see why. Despite their focus on the choreography today, they’ve warmed up their voices very thoroughly and they shouldn’t let that go to waste, not only for their own health but also because they would have to do it all over again. Personally, he prefers simply not talking much over conveying everything in song, but to each their own as long as it works.

“Can we go over the steps again?” she sings and waves a hand around.

“Why?” They’re not all that difficult, they just walk towards each other with held out hands and turn around in the middle of their part. Their rhythm is fine and it’s not even particularly exhausting. Plus, their break is almost over – the second one for today. Their choreography is still atrocious, but Rome wasn’t built in a day, he supposes.

“I think my timing is a little bit off.”

 _Is that so?_ He didn’t notice that at all and nobody else has mentioned it either. Maybe she’s just seeing things?

“You know, when we’re at the ‘ _to the lights_ ’ part and turn around, the distance between us” – she walks along the terrace and hums the melody, then turns – “is a little bit too big, and I think it’s my fault.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it,” Keiji says. Then again, if Mai thinks she’s right, she probably is. Her sense for anything musical surpasses his by far.

She sighs and shakes her head. “Yeah, it’s probably just me,” she says – actually says, not sings – and gives him a somewhat bitter smile. “But I feel like we’re not doing enough. Not us two, I mean, but as a whole. It’s probably stupid, we’re practicing so much, but we’re not really making progress …”

This sounds an awful lot like what he was thinking before. He wouldn’t have assumed Mai to feel the same though; he has missed a lot of practice but she’s been there for all of it. He’s not entirely sure what to say.

_Being passionate is one thing, but don’t make the same mistakes others have before you._

But it’s not a mistake to try and be the best you can be, right?

“Alright, let’s do another take before break’s over.”

 

* * *

 

“How on _earth_ have you injured yourself playing _Monopoly_?”

If Keiji hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep, he would assume he’s dreaming. When he sees Terushima like this, with a rather large cut on his cheek and a bruise blooming on his forehead, he really is glad to be sitting this one out while most others are in their practice room, apparently turning the playing board into a warzone.

Sawamura, who is also not playing, has joined him in his room to do some schoolwork and is looking about as incredulous as Keiji. “Are you okay, Terushima?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing, I just wanna know if you have a band-aid or something,” the idiot in question says with a big grin. “We’re winning though! You should come join us, beat down Mai and Futa!”

“Again, how on _earth_ have you injured yourself playing _Monopoly_?” Keiji repeats. He thought he’s seen the absolute worst of the game but clearly, he was wrong.

“Tashiro started crying when his team went bankrupt so Tachibana got really mad and threw their figure at me. And then I bumped my head on a table when I stood up.” Amazingly, his mood doesn’t seem be down in the slightest. Terushima is incredible.

“Tachibana-san has really good precision then,” Sawamura says and exchanges a _look_ with Keiji. They seem to be on the same page – they’d prefer to make sure that nobody is dying but they’re putting their own safety first. He’ll just have to have faith that his friends can survive it. They aren’t really the type of people who would easily die.

“Ooh, I hope this leaves a scar,” Terushima exclaims while Keiji rummages through his bag to find the packet of band-aids he always brings along, because you never know. “Girls love that sort of stuff, right?”

“Pretty sure girls love a sane and healthy mind,” he murmurs and throws a band-aid at his friend, who catches it expertly.

“What about guys then?” He’s making an active effort to not look at him right now because he knows that if he did, it would just be painful. Terushima is certainly winking at Sawamura right now or something similar.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s an idiot,” he tells his senpai and his friend makes an offended noise.

“You _like_ this idiot!”

He does, but sometimes he has to wonder why.

 

* * *

 

He’s almost asleep when the noise of something hitting wood, followed by a poignant “ _fuck_ ” startles him awake again.

“What the hell,” Keiji grumbles and blinks against the light streaming in from the door. Oikawa is holding his shoulder, what he can see of his face pulled into a pained grimace.

“Is that bedpost supposed to be there?” he hisses and scowls at the thing.

Keiji groans and turns around. “Yes. Go to sleep.”

“I was trying to— Damn this stupid— Sorry.”

Ah, so he does know how to apologise. How nice. “Never mind it. Just shut up.”

He was _so_ close to falling asleep and taking that away from him is a crime. If he had a Monopoly figure, he’d throw it at Oikawa. One of his admittedly few real talents is great precision, especially when he’s pissed off.

“We won though.”

“ _Go to sleep._ ”

It’s quiet for some time and he’s about to drift off for good when he hears him speak _again_. “Teru-chan’s team had really bad luck in the end and—”

“Oikawa-san, I swear to _god_ if you don’t shut your mouth immediately—”

“Alright, alright … You have to play next time though!”

He takes his pillow and throws it directly at Oikawa’s face. It hits his mark despite him not even watching properly.

Half of him feels smug about it, the other half thinks, _Shit, now I don’t have a pillow anymore._ In hindsight, he should have used literally anything else.

“Give that back.”

“Why should I?” Oikawa, who has apparently not realised this is no time for playing games, asks with a very audible grin.

“Because,” Keiji growls, “it is almost one in the morning, we don’t have much time anymore, and you will not like me if _you’re_ the cause for my sleep-deprivation next time.”

The pillow is wordlessly thrown back, though not as elegantly, and this time he can actually fall asleep for good.

 

* * *

 

“You sounded great right there, Akaashi,” Nekomata says and Keiji almost congratulates the first year by his side, Hibari, before he realises the compliment was meant for him.

For the first time in ages, he’s happy with how he sounds – the song is one they’ve introduced in the training camp, a ballad named _Reach_ , and he absolutely loves singing it. The pitch of the baritone parts is exactly right and he’s caught himself humming it several times ever since he first heard it.

But he can’t remember the last time he’s been told he sounds good, even. Only ‘you suit this song’ or ‘you have a good rhythm’ or something like that. Those things are all nice, of course, but fundamentally kind of … Disappointing.

This, however …

Wait a second, how did Nekomata even notice? Yes, it’s only the baritones singing in this part, but there’s still a lot of them and they’re not supposed to stand out this much. “Sorry?” he says, not quite sure what to say.

“Why are you apologising? That was a compliment,” his director says and turns to a second year behind him. “Sorata, you’re starting too early.”

“Nice, dude,” Terushima whispers and Keiji still has no idea what’s going on. It’s going to take a while to process that.

Well, it’s one thing he’s done right if nothing else.

Time is passing very, very quickly though. They’ll leave tomorrow and while progress is starting to show and they’ve been practicing their butts off, it still feels like they’re not doing enough. He’s managing to stay on top of school work at least, but once they’re home rehearsals will resume three times a week until their presence phase starts again. He does have to wonder how much harsher it will get. They’re already far from the relaxed atmosphere in the beginning, although it’s still not bad, not in the slightest. It shows that all of them are serious, even if they fool around a lot.

Still …

“Are you thinking about something? Because I can’t tell what you’re feeling for shit but you look like you’re thinking.”

Keiji blinks, realising he’s actually been staring into nothing lost in his own thoughts until Terushima snapped him out of them. “Yes,” he just says in lack of a better option.

His friend hits him on the head very lightly. “Then cut that out, we’re not here to think, we’re here to sing! Sounds similar, is not the same though.”

While he questions the truth in that statement, he has a point. This is like his conversation with Oikawa all over again, except Terushima clearly can’t read him like that, which is a bit relieving. Looks like he hasn’t lost that poker face (or resting bitch face, as Komi always called it) after all. He smiles at him as a sort of thank you before Nekomata calls their attention to the front again and practice resumes as usual.

Maybe he is thinking too much. Quite honestly, he doesn’t really know what to feel, but living in the moment can’t always be that bad. Terushima surely looks like he’s having a blast with it.

 

* * *

 

Today passes by very slowly, and practice kind of drags on as they repeat the same part over and over again. He gets it, some people have problems with it, but most of them are fine.

One of the annoying things about choir is that having only one person who’s out of the loop can ruin the entire dynamic if you’re really taking it seriously. Of course you don’t want anyone to fall behind and even in a big group, everyone needs to be at their best so that the choir can be, and if that means rehearsing the same verses all day then it just means that.

Still, it gets really aggravating after a while.

“Wow, you look pissed off,” Terushima whispers with a side glance at him. “Like, even more pissed off than usual.”

“Aren’t you?” He can’t imagine his friend is happy about this. He isn’t the type to like slow-paced stuff or unending repetitions.

“Yeah, kinda. But hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.”

That’s the right way to say it, yes. If they don’t pay attention, they’ll be out of tune in the end and nobody wants that either. Plus, if Keiji was the one falling behind – and honestly, he’s surprised he isn’t after his involuntary break two days ago – he’d appreciate it too, so complaining now makes him a pretty big hypocrite.

(But heck, sometimes you can’t help some hypocrisy.)

“If it helps, it’ll only be today,” a third year by the name of Kurokawa behind them says and both of them flinch at the sound. He’s not really acquainted with him at all, considering he doesn’t speak a lot, but Tashiro seems to be friends with him, so he can’t be a bad guy. Still, he was hoping for nobody to overhear them.

He probably has a point though. Once they get home, they’ll have much less time, so this is something they should be doing right now. Tomorrow before they leave will probably be intense as well but they only have the morning. And Nekomata definitely knows what he’s doing …

Terushima snorts. “Yeah, you’re kinda still looking like you want to die.”

That’s putting it a little harshly, but he can’t really deny it.

 

* * *

 

Monopoly of Death seems to be going on tonight as well but Keiji didn’t feel like sitting around in his room again – he’s on top of his school work and he really doesn’t have anything else to do, so he decided to roam around a bit and found himself in a smaller practice room he didn’t know existed.

Its walls are dark and wooden, very different from the other room, and the acoustics aren’t as great, but there’s a couple of unused microphones hidden away in glass vitrines and a simple black piano at the wall, which is enough for him.

He hasn’t been able to play in a while, and it’s making him more nervous than it should, but he supposes many people get restless when they can’t follow their hobby for longer than usual. Then again, he shouldn’t get his hopes up; the instrument might not even be working properly.

He’s just going to assume it’s okay for him to settle down and play, as the door wasn’t even closed properly. Ono did say before they came here that they’re allowed to use everything the hostel has to offer as long as they don’t break anything.

The piano lid is heavy and creaks a bit when he pulls it up, but otherwise it seems to be well-maintained. He shifts a bit in his seat, resting his fingers on the keys and getting used to the feeling for a moment.

Keiji presses C3 and the sound is flawless. He can’t help a satisfied smirk – this is going to work.

He doesn’t know what to play, not really, so he just improvises something that slowly turns into a lower version of _Crystalline_. He’s almost surprised at how easily it comes to him, as he hasn’t played it in a while, but the sound and feel of it is familiar even with the change in pitch and on an instrument he’s using for the first time, and before he knows it he’s singing along.

The smile on his face probably doesn’t help the mood but he can’t find it in himself to care. The notes come to him naturally, clear and strong and with nobody here to listen, why should he bother? This is the first time in a while he’s doing something just because he wants to.

He messes up near the end and quietly laughs at himself before letting the song fade out into nothing and taking a deep breath.

“Cute. Not exactly what it was intended to be, but I’ll take it.”

“Is barging into other people’s practice your special talent?” Keiji asks with a sigh and turns around just enough to see Oikawa leaning on the doorframe. “I didn’t think anyone would find this place.”

“I didn’t think that either, that’s why I’ve been practicing here. Besides, I could ask you the same thing, Mr. ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t notice you playing for whatever reason’.” Keiji isn’t looking at him, but he can say with absolute certainty Oikawa’s wearing that _damn_ smile again. Sometimes he does wonder if they’ll ever truly get along, he’s really not making it easy.

He’s not in the mood for small talk, but he is genuinely curious as to what he’s doing here. “Is Monopoly from hell over?”

“I don’t know,” Oikawa says and comes over to stand behind him, looking over his shoulder like a math teacher in high school checking how stupid he actually is. “No sheet music?”

“I don’t need it,” he answers simply. Half of him is saying, _uhm, personal space?_ , but he doesn’t feel like giving in just yet. He kind of wants to see how far he can take this, if casual touches become antagonistic or maybe not at all. If he had to guess, Oikawa, despite his fooling around, always seems some sort of in control over his own actions, a trait they share but display in completely different ways. It’s only serving to make him harder to read and sometimes he’s glad they’re not directly competing in the same voice.

Oikawa hums. “You play by ear?”

“Sometimes. Don’t you?” He wouldn’t quite believe him if he said yes. For him to be at Karasuno for not only vocals but also the piano he has to have some sort of connection to the instrument. They all do.

“Not usually, no,” he says though. “I mean, I can, but I don’t really like doing it.”

“That’s boring.” It slips out involuntarily, but it’s still true, so Keiji doesn’t bother correcting himself. The annoyed huff he gets from Oikawa almost makes him giggle – he probably shouldn’t take such joy in borderline offending people but it can be really entertaining.

If nothing else, he finally gets off him, only to push him a bit to the side and sit down on the piano stool next to him. It’s a pretty big one, so they both fit without problems, but it’s still weird. Then again, there’s no other seat around, so he can kind of understand him. “You’re the boring one, Akaacchi.”

“That doesn’t even make sense in context.”

“Depends on what context you’re talking about.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“What’s your point,” Oikawa mumbles, clearly defeated, and lightly brushes his fingertips over the keys of the piano. When Keiji finally looks at him again, his eyes are fixed on the instrument, expression neutral.

“You know,” he starts, quieter than before, “I really didn’t expect to find anyone here, much less you. I’ve been here a lot over the last year but this is the first time someone else used this room.”

“Sorry?” he asks, not really sure what to say. It’s not his fault, after all.

“But …” He presses a key and the resonating note is so soft, he might have overheard it were he not sitting so close. “I don’t really feel like practicing anyway, so who cares.”

“Why did you come here then?” It sounds useless then. It took Keiji half an hour to stumble upon this place, and in some way he’s grateful Oikawa is here, because it’s totally possible he wouldn’t find back to their room on his own.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m hiding from Dai-chi?” He shoots him a sheepish smile and Keiji doesn’t know whether to answer with ‘oh my god, what did you do?’ or ‘no’, so he ends up just staring at him with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, okay, fine, maybe I just wanted to be alone for a while. But I am hiding from Dai-chi. He said he’d join Monopoly today after he heard we won and you do not want to play Monopoly against him … Or any game, for that matter.” Oikawa sighs and plays a swift arpeggio. Show-off.

“Isn’t coming in counterproductive then?” Keiji asks. If he wanted to be alone, he should have just left when he saw him play.

“Hey, we have to get used to each other,” he defends himself. “This won’t be the only practice camp, and we’re gonna room together again, right?”

“Who said that?” he asks with as dry a voice as he can manage. Honestly, he’ll take Oikawa over Terushima any day, at least for rooming purposes, but it’s not like he doesn’t have other friends. Maybe he can get closer to Futakuchi or Tashiro. Or possibly Sawamura, they do get along. “I’d prefer not to be woken up in the middle of the night because my roommate walked into a bedpost.”

“Geez, that was _one time_. And I was seriously injured! That Monopoly game was already unforgiving, it’s like life has it out for me.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got yourself to blame for that, actually.”

He doesn’t receive an answer and the longer they’re sitting there in silence, the more Keiji grows aware of just how close they are. Their shoulders are touching but it’s not uncomfortable in the least. He’s used to having friends who are very physically affectionate – two years of Bokuto and now Terushima and Mai and nothing can shock him anymore – although he doesn’t know whether he can actually consider him and Oikawa _friends_. They’re … Acquaintances?

Suddenly, out of nothing, Oikawa asks, “Do you think Dai-chi’s going to become a plumber someday?”

The sheer absurdity of the question is enough to make him laugh, and the image of Sawamura dressed like Super Mario, swirling a plunger around like he’s doing a magic trick, isn’t helping at all. “Why would you ask that?” he says but it only sounds like his laughter is forming random words, and he tries his best to regain his composure because damn, this isn’t all that funny at all, but now Oikawa is laughing as well and it’s so damn _contagious_.

“I don’t know,” he huffs out, “I just thought of it. Wouldn’t it suit him?”

“I mean … I guess?”

They take some time to calm down, and Keiji knows for a fact he won’t be able to look Sawamura in the face for some time without starting to laugh.

“You know, you’re not half bad, Akaacchi,” Oikawa says with a smile that looks genuine for a change. “Annoying, but not half bad.”

He still doesn’t understand what on earth he did to warrant the descriptor of ‘annoying’ but doesn’t feel like asking. He’s in a good mood and the atmosphere is light and fun, and he doesn’t want to destroy that now. It’s not like he _wants_ their relationship to be as strained as it has been, so he simply says, “I can say the same about you.”

They stay like that for a little while, talking about nothing in particular (or more accurately drawing out the idea of plumber Sawamura into a whole vision of the future – one thing they can agree on is Bokuto becoming a rockstar with a huge following but no idea what he’s actually doing).

When they finally leave for their room, they pass by the practice room; the door is closed but the shouting hard to miss, and once again Keiji is glad he never even tried joining them in their game of life and death.

Before he falls asleep, he thinks that this might not turn out all that bad after all, but only time can tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, the plumber conversation happened to me. yes, it lead into me and my friend laying in bed together for three hours talking about the futures of everyone in our class. yes, it was absolutely hilarious. it was only a matter of time until I wrote that into this fic, honestly ...


	8. Live from Yukiyama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> our practice camp was one and a half hour away from our starting point at the school. one time, it took us eight hours to get there. that part of the chapter is just me wanting these guys to suffer through the same things I did. speaking of things that happened to me, do you know that a bus ride can get both entertaining and annoying when the people next to you sing the same song with makeshift verses for two hours straight? Mai's song is actually based on that. I sometimes still have nightmares about it. Live aus Möhrendorf ... Möhrendorf ist cool ...
> 
> also, Daichi's very tiny tidbit is based on my lyrical version of Don't speak her name (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJsZFZ32aM4). because it was the first thing I could think of. uh. (it's so old already ... 2015 ... I'm still proud I managed the "do you hear them shouting out her name over our stage now" in one breath.) but my streak of using my own lyrical covers for lyrics purposes continues ... maybe I'll end up writing N's Farewell into this. (aka the one I made everything cry with. or was that Don't speak her name?)
> 
> this is another one of those chapters that got a little long, but there's nothing wrong with long chapters, is there? ... is there?? °^°)/
> 
> I researched Japanese photography laws for a single sentence of this chapter. is this what being a writer feels like? 
> 
> why are there so many questions in this A/N? WHY IS THIS A QUESTION AS WELL???
> 
> I've been meaning to go to bed two hours ago but ... I tend to power through the last 1k or sometimes more words so now it's 4am again ... I have lost control over my life. BUT 3WL IS SO FUN TO WRITE ;_________________;

Something must have happened last night at Monopoly, because Terushima and Futakuchi are not talking to each other. Or, well, that would be somewhat explainable since they aren’t that close to begin with, but they’re really making an effort to ignore each other, aggressively so. Why Futakuchi is sitting at their table with them in the first place while Mai is stifling her laughter, Yumi has a vaguely haunted look on her face despite her usual smile, and Sawamura passes by them shaking his head, Keiji does not understand.

Thank god they don’t have a duet. Or maybe they should have one. Work it out via singing. He heard it helps.

“What happened?” he asks Mai quietly – he doubts he can help but he would like to be in the know.

“Bad things,” she answers and giggles. “You don’t want to know.”

Honestly, she might have a point. He’s not sure he really wants context, but what he does want is for this to be over.

Nekomata and Ono call their attention to explain today’s schedule, which is as expected: two hours of practice, then they go home again. At this point, why even bother with practice at all? Sure you can get some things done in two hours, but nothing too groundbreaking.

“The clubs at Datekou always got cake or something on their last day of camp,” Mai whispers with a pout. “Should we propose that for next time?”

No situation is dire enough to turn down even the mere idea of cake, and Keiji nods. But when is ‘next time’ supposed to be, anyway? Nothing has been announced yet. Oikawa did say there’s going to be more practice camps in the future, which makes sense, but they’ve never received a schedule or anything.

Breakfast ends without many more exciting things to happen, unless you can count Terushima and Futakuchi occasionally glaring at each other when they think the other isn’t looking, and if Keiji was a meaner person he’d probably take out his phone and film it, because it’s very funny to look at, but while that’s not explicitly forbidden, it does feel too impolite.

“Seriously, what happened?” he asks Mai again when they put away their dishes, but she just shakes her head.

“You’ll find out eventually, but I don’t think the two of them would appreciate it. I mean, everyone knows, so just ask …” She furrows her brows and stops in her tracks for a second. “I wanted to say ask Oikawa-san or someone, but was he even there?”

Wow, talk about a truly _incredible_ presence. “He wasn’t. Sawamura-san was, though.”

“Wait, you weren’t there either, how do you know?” If nothing else, the thought of his absence being more noticeable than Oikawa’s makes him feel somewhat accomplished.

He wants to tell her about their meeting last night, but something’s holding him back. It might just be his gut instinct (which, admittedly, sucks) but he feels like she’d misinterpret the situation, so he goes with a half-truth instead. “We’re sharing a room, remember? I should know.”

“You and Sawamura-san? Did you switch _again_?”

Oh. She was talking about Sawamura. Well, granted, he couldn’t have known that. “No, Oikawa-san and I. That’s what I meant.”

Mai looks almost relieved. “Thank goodness, I thought you were keeping secrets from me. Me, your best friend …”

He’s taken a little aback by that claim. Even if it was just a joke, the thought of anyone but Bokuto considering themselves his best friend feels strange. He hasn’t known Mai for all that long, but they have been spending a lot of time together, so … She’s probably right.

When he doesn’t answer for a while, she looks at him with a cocked head and something that seems very vulnerable in her eyes. “I am, right? I mean, not counting Terushima. And any best friends you had from before you came here. But I’m your best friend at Karasuno, right?”

“Of course,” he says a little more quietly than he wanted, and while he does think that anyone who would have said no in this situation could have been considered a monster, he does genuinely mean it. In what little time they had together, Mai as well as Terushima have become increasingly important to him, and it’s something he never wants to give up.

“Sure I am!” she exclaims and her smile and confidence are back up again as if nothing had happened. She’s humming for the rest of their way out of the dining hall, and Keiji can’t help but smile and quietly hum along.

 

* * *

 

The bus ride from Yukiyama to Karasuno is supposed to take three and a half hours. They had to take a detour on their way to the practice camp and ended up taking much longer, but Ono said that the roadworks that caused it are finished and there’s not much traffic around, so the ride back home should go rather smoothly.

It doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t. God damn it, they’re like a driving disaster magnet. Except not at all, because they’re not driving, as disaster today takes shape in the worst traffic jam he’s ever been in.

(Granted, he hasn’t been in many bad traffic jams in his life, as he never got all that far away from home before coming to Karasuno, but sometimes you just need to baselessly complain.)

Futakuchi has whipped out his UNO deck, they’ve been playing in the back for three goddamn hours, and they _still_ haven’t moved past the exit that has been next to them for a long, long time.

“Uno. Yellow,” Mai says after laying down a colour choice card with something barely resembling a smile.

“Uno!” Terushima, the only person who is legitimately still excited about this, shouts and slams a yellow 6 onto the card stack.

Keiji, with two cards on his hands, a blue 7 and a green 0, only sighs and draws a card. It’s a red draw two, and he thinks UNO is much more fun when you’re playing it because you want to, not because you have to in order to maintain some semblance of patience with the world.

Futakuchi unenthusiastically throws his last card, a blue 6, onto the card stack. “I win, hooray.”

He’s still not actually talking to Terushima, so this is probably the closest form of communication they have right now. It’s a surprise he even let him play. Then again, Terushima being all hyped up about this stupid card game could maybe, perhaps, eventually become contagious. One of these days.

“We should write a song,” the hyped up idiot in question says all of a sudden, and he’s staring at them with wide open eyes and his mouth in an o-shape. Keiji feels awfully reminded of that time in his apartment.

Sawamura, who’s been watching their match while Oikawa’s sleeping on the seat next to him without a care in the world – how enviable – raises an eyebrow. “About what?”

Terushima darts up without warning and grabs him by the shoulders, staring into his eyes intently. “UNO,” he announces in his _I just had what I think is a life-changing idea_ voice.

“I like the idea,” Mai says with a bit more life in her voice than before. “Don’t they say ‘boredom spawns the greatest masterpieces’?”

“No,” Keiji deadpans.

“Well, they should! Let’s get to brainstorming, boys!”

Why are these people his friends? What has he ever done to deserve them? This is Bokuto all over again. _I love you but could you possibly … Not?_

“’kaash!” Terushima says and never has any variation of his name made him want to sink into his seat before. Well, except that one time his math teacher caught him letting a friend copy off him in a test. That _Akaashi-kun_ will haunt him for the rest of his life. “You’re the instrument guy! Go make us a melody!”

“Actually, Futakuchi …” Before he can finish his sentence, he has a hand placed over his mouth.

“I can’t compose for crap, so let’s not even.”

“Is this really composing?” Sawamura muses and shakes his head. “We could just take a pre-existing melody and change the lyrics.”

“That’s no fun,” Terushima and Mai shoot back in a unison so flawless it would have made Nekomata give them a duet part.

Four pairs of eyes are staring at Keiji and once again he feels completely helpless. Maybe joining the choir was a bad idea after all. “Uh,” he starts. It’s a weird feeling, even for something this ridiculous – even if he did have an idea, he’d be hesitant about voicing it. He knows it’s an irrational feeling, he’s not going to get judged for a bad melody to a random song. Still, if they rejected it … He should just keep quiet. “I don’t have anything.”

It’s not like he can come up with anything anyway, especially since he doesn’t even want to, although he has to admit it’s probably better than yet another round of UNO. He’s not a composer, not even for stupid songs about card games stemming from boredom. What about alleged musical genius Mai? He doesn’t know a lot about Sawamura’s skills, so that one might know something. Or they could wake up Oikawa. Or shout for help through the entire bus, which, again, would probably wake up Oikawa. Then again, that guy slept through three hours of decreasingly entertaining UNO, complete with Terushima screaming.

“What’s so bad about just changing the lyrics as I said?” Sawamura chimes in and clears his throat. “Like, _Beyond the turning point of a war game / I lay my final card, but_ … I forgot to say UNO … Or something.”

Keiji now knows two things: first, Sawamura should get a solo, his bass voice is one of the most soothing things he’s ever heard (and Terushima as well, judging from the dreamy look in his eyes). Second, he’s bad at coming up with lyrics. He doesn’t know the song, but it sounds similar to the one the choir performed at the entrance ceremony, so they probably belong to a set or something of sorts. Not that he particularly cares.

“ _Live from Yukiyama! / This is no mere joke / ‘Cuz all of us are playing some UNO / Until Aka-kun broke._ From the looks of it, at least. You look like you want to die,” Mai says with a giggle.

“I have a feeling that’s what he always looks like,” Futakuchi argues and he’s not wrong, although Mai isn’t either. His so-called resting bitch face can be really convenient at times.

 

* * *

 

Two more hours pass until they finally leave the road for a bit, if only to stop at a rest area. Keiji flees the bus as quickly as he can, before Mai’s try at writing lyrics, which has turned into the chorus of an unstopping chain of verses that have long gone past being about UNO, can get any more stuck in his head. He still finds himself humming it on his way to the bathroom.

After a while he ends up standing outside of the little shop, leaning against the wall and breathing the fresh air. It’s warm enough for him to not wear a jacket, Oikawa’s cardigan doing its job very well, and it’s only now that he realises how terrible the air inside the bus has been even with some open windows.

There’s not much around the resting area; a gas station, some benches, lots of parked cars, and the run-of-the-mill shop he’s leaning against. Behind it there’s a fence separating them from a forest, and despite the many people hurrying around especially with the choir here, it’s quite relaxing. He can only hope the rest of the drive will be the same. They seem to have passed the worst, at least, although he won’t say that out loud or else he might jinx it.

Futakuchi waves at him from one of the benches and he waves back. They’re still not really close, but he is interested in what the hell happened with Terushima, and he’s definitely one of the people he’s been doing more with lately. Maybe they could be friends. He seems like a straightforward guy, and he has always gotten along with those. Sawamura, too. He does wish he’d talk a bit more to Shimizu, but with Bokuto’s gig soon, he can bet he’ll get forcibly acquainted with the rest of the band anyway.

Terushima and Mai exit the store with three big ice cream waffles and he only realises one is for him when they hold it out to him. “Thanks?” Not that he asked for it, but ice cream is always appreciated. It’s chocolate, too, which makes it even better.

“You’re welcome,” Mai sing-songs and Terushima shoots her a glance.

“I paid for that. I should say ‘you’re welcome’.”

“Oh, does it matter?” From the sound of her voice, it doesn’t. To Keiji, it doesn’t, either.

They stand there in uncharacteristic silence for a while and eat their ice cream gazing out at the scenery in front of them. Nekomata is wildly gesticulating while talking to an unconvinced looking Ono. A group of first years is crowding around a clearly overwhelmed Tashiro, with Kurokawa standing at his side looking as stoic as ever, or maybe he just doesn’t care, who knows. Yumi is with them, scribbling something down on a notebook.

“You know, I’m glad I joined the choir,” Keiji says without meaning to. It’s true, though. Even with all their hardships and the brutal schedule he’s _really_ going to feel later on, he can’t imagine what life at Karasuno would be like without it, and if he could redo his first year up till now, he’d do it all over again.

“You’re welcome,” Terushima says and when he furrows his brows at him, he adds, “I mean, if I hadn’t asked you to come with me you wouldn’t have.”

“Oh. Right.” He completely forgot about that. “Thank you, then,” he says with a smile and his friend gives him a thumbs-up.

Mai leans forward a bit, staring up at them. “Really? I never knew. I mean, I knew you were friends … But that’s pretty cool.”

“Did you have any particular reason to join?” Keiji asks. Mai could have easily joined a band, which also counts as a club if it’s properly registered with the school, and would have probably made it far with a voice like hers.

She hums and leans back against the wall, looks at the sky and sighs. “I don’t know. I was in choir in junior high, but it wasn’t really serious, so I kind of wanted to go for broke now, or something. So I just did it.”

“So we all just kinda … Ended up here,” Terushima muses and sounds strangely serious for once. “I just liked their music. I never was in choir before, though.”

“You weren’t?” He’s easily one of the better singers and he has the right attitude, so it’s surprising to hear. Keiji knows almost nothing about what high school was like for him, when he thinks about it. He should ask him about that sometime.

“Nope,” he says and shakes his head. “Never wanted to until I heard those guys sing for the first time.”

He can see where he’s coming from, and it’s good to hear he wasn’t the only one lured in by that. He supposes that’s kind of the point of their performance, aside from impressing people with their skills and generally having a good time.

“And then you dragged Aka-kun here, because … Why not?” Mai giggles. “I’m happy you did. Who, if not you guys, would I beat at Monopoly?”

“You’ve never beaten me at Monopoly. I haven’t played,” Keiji argues.

“You’re going to sooner or later, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Right!” Terushima jumps in and grins at him. “Don’t think you’ll always be able to run away. We’re very persistent.”

These two are going to be the end of him someday, aren’t they? But somehow, he finds he doesn’t mind that at all.

 

* * *

 

The sun is down when Keiji arrives back at his apartment, completely worn out even though he didn’t do all that much. They ended up stuck in yet another traffic jam near the end of the drive, and it’s nothing if not exhausting.

His bed is still in its sofa form, but he can’t find it in himself to switch it back. All he wants to do is drop his bag somewhere, take a quick shower, and pass out somewhere remotely comfortable. Bokuto’s concert is in two days, so he needs to find the location first or at least someone who can tell him any other directions than ‘over there, at that place I was talking about’. (Very helpful, Bokuto-san, you’re the most precise person on this whole planet.) He can’t do that if he’s tired.

After his shower, he decides he can at least empty out his bag first. In the end, he didn’t wear half the things he brought, just an array of t-shirts and Oikawa’s cardigan, which he has officially claimed as his own. He thought about buying one for himself, but why should he, he has one now after all.

Then he thinks he maybe should build his sofa into the bed after all, as to not hurt his back later, and when he’s finally lying down he checks his phone, like he hasn’t in quite some time, actually. Sure, the occasional message got through, but his mind has mostly been elsewhere.

Terushima has apparently created a group named _everyone but futakuchi_ , which is not actually everyone, just Mai, Yumi, Sawamura (good on him for getting that phone number?), and the two of them, although it does feature a distinct lack of Futakuchi. Nobody has answered to his _hheEEEEY!!!!!_ yet and Keiji won’t be the first, so he dismisses it.

He called his mother when he came back, so it’s no surprise to see no message from her. It is, however, a surprise when he stumbles upon a text from an unknown number, sent half an hour ago.

_r u akaashi?_

He raises an eyebrow, thinking for a moment. If they know his name, it’s probably through Bokuto, so they could be anyone. He comes to the conclusion there’s no harm in responding, so he simply sends, _Yes. Why?_

 _kou is still crying and i dont know how to make him stop_ , the answer comes almost immediately. Now ‘Kou’ could be anyone, but he assumes it’s short for ‘Koutarou’. He can’t help the heavy sigh.

_Who are you and what did you do?_

_im kuroo tetsurou his bandmate and i did nothing_. That explains a lot – so he’s either the frontman or the keyboarder. Not that it matters.

_Just ignore him. It’ll stop._

_u sure?_

_Positive._

Or so he hopes. Usually, Bokuto’s mood swings are pretty easy to solve, as long as you don’t actively do too much. That doesn’t mean there’s no work behind the scenes, one time in his first year Keiji had to find a way to help him get on stage despite a lack of audience, something that severely demotivated that show-off. It worked, somehow, and he wants to believe he’s fairly good at Bokuto, but there’s still many things he doesn’t understand, especially now that they’re not as close anymore as they used to be.

It’s only one more reason to change that. He doesn’t want to lose his best friend.

 _if it doesnt work ill come back to u_ , Kuroo sends and Keiji nods, as if he could see it. Maybe he can. Some people are weird.

_Okay._

Maybe he should be asking where they are and come over, just to make sure, but he honestly doesn’t have the energy for that right now. Bokuto, as contagious as he is, can get extremely tiring to constantly watch out for, and when he thinks about that, he realises he’s been feeling a little restless ever since his friend graduated. He can’t place whether it’s a good feeling or not, though. It’s just … Different.

Maybe that’s why he’s gravitating toward Terushima so much.

It’s a lot to think about, and he doesn’t know whether he actually gives a damn, but it still takes him a while to fall asleep. When he does, though, he’s blessed with dreamless slumber.

 

* * *

 

The gig’s location suits the style of the band very well – it’s a club of sorts but not really, a back room to a hotel that everyone can come in and have a good time at. Worn down posters decorate the brick walls and the neon lights sting in his eyes, and that’s nothing to say of the air.

It’s not a place he’d usually be seen in and if he wasn’t doing this for Bokuto, he’d already be out of the door again, but he is, and maybe, just maybe he can get used to it for the time they’re playing.

 _were backstige!!!!_ Bokuto has sent him, as if he couldn’t have figured that out by himself. But he doesn’t see where exactly that ‘backstage’ could even be, considering there’s no room behind the stage and he hasn’t seen them outside. Maybe they’re in the hotel somewhere.

Honestly, he would have felt a little bit better if someone was with him, but nobody he asked had time in the end, except Sawamura, though he did say it’s not sure yet whether he’ll be there. The place isn’t packed, but there are a good number of people here, some chatting about the band. Maybe they are memorable enough to not need a name.

He scans the crowd for familiar faces and gets caught on a fluffy batch of brown hair. It certainly wouldn’t be strange for Oikawa to be here, but since he’s turned away from Keiji, he can’t be sure if it’s really him. Presumably-Oikawa is talking to someone with light grey hair dyed dark at the tips— Wait a second, he knows _that_ guy.

“Semi-san?” he asks and strolls closer, and a pair of brown eyes land on him, clearly surprised.

“Oh, hey, Akaashi. How’s your song coming along? Did you use the samples I gave you?”

“Eh …” He smiles bitterly. “Nothing really came of it. Sorry.”

If Semi is disappointed, it doesn’t show. He wasn’t too involved with the whole process, but the samples he got them from the club he’s in (he thinks it’s a composing thing, he’s not sure) were actually quite helpful – or, well, would have been had they actually finished the thing.

“You talk to Semisemi, but not me?” Yup, he also knows that vaguely offended voice. Guess his first thought was right after all.

“Hello, Oikawa-san, I didn’t notice you. You kind of blend in with the crowd.” He’s not exactly telling the truth, but messing with Oikawa is particularly fun. They hadn’t had a real chance to talk since the night in the practice room, and the atmosphere here is much more relaxed.

“Would you stop calling me Semisemi?” Semi interjects with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s bad enough Satori started that.”

“Tendou can be a genius sometimes,” Oikawa replies with a smile before turning his attention back to Keiji. “And what do you mean, ‘blend in with the crowd’? If anything, I stand out.”

Truth be told, he probably does. Most people in the room have exotic haircuts or are wearing strange outfits so seeing someone as … Normal looking as Oikawa seems like a novelty around here. Keiji is well aware the same can be said about himself, too, and he doesn’t really like it but what can he do.

“Idiots tend to do that, yeah,” Semi says and Keiji snorts. He’s not wrong.

Oikawa folds his arms over his chest and pouts. “Why are all of my friends so mean to me? My taste in people needs to improve.”

“Have you ever considered you’re just a terrible person?” Yes, Keiji likes Semi, it’s decided.

“Nope, can’t be, no way.”

“Just think about it,” he says. “The rest of the world, having a point.”

“Why are you two even here?” Oikawa whines, probably realising he can’t win this. Semi and Keiji make a good team.

“Bokuto-san …” Wait, no, it wasn’t actually him. “Shimizu-san asked me to.” That’s kind of strange, when he thinks about it. He assumes Shimizu was just the middle man, but he didn’t even get a text from Bokuto about it. But he probably just knew he was going to come from Shimizu, so Keiji’s likely overthinking it.

“Satori forced me to and then cancelled last minute,” Semi growls. “Fuck that guy. I always come to his dumb anime cons for him and he just ditches me.”

Whoever this Satori is, he sounds like a taxing friend to have. It reminds him of Konoha a bit, except that guy was reliable at least. Judging from Oikawa’s understanding nod, he thinks so too, and it kind of makes Keiji wonder how many people he knows. First Bokuto, now Semi …

Then suddenly a guitar string is being played and cuts their conversation – or continuous assault on Oikawa, whatever you want to call it – short.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto shouts into a microphone that immediately gives feedback. Keiji cringes at the ear-piercing sound; his friend seems to attract that kind of thing, always has, and it’s never been pleasant. “Are you ready to rock?!”

Semi raises an eyebrow. “He’s so loud.”

“Tell me about it,” Keiji sighs. But he trusts in Bokuto’s ability to hype people up, and it seems to work, as he hears some “yeah!”s from the crowd. Personally, he’s never been big on that whole thing, but hey, who cares.

“That’s the fun part!” Oikawa exclaims and pretty much proves his train of thought. Lately he can understand why he’s turning them down though; it’s only due to his own relatively solid time management that he’s on track with school, and choir is tiring to say the least.

Shimizu glances at them from the side of the stage, strumming her bass strings and nodding at them when Bokuto fist-bumps the guitarist and hurries to the drums. The keyboarder, a thin boy with dark circles under his eyes and chin-length half blond-half black hair looks like he doesn’t want to be here. Yes, Keiji assumes the one who sent that message was the guitarist. Everything seems to be okay now and he received no further texts from him.

The first song they play is that godforsaken _Drive to You_ , of course it is, why not start with the car tires. However, he’s seeing now how the crowd doesn’t even care about how terrible the lyrics are, as the music drowns out the meaning of the words completely. Presumably-Kuroo’s voice can still be heard, but the lyrics turn to slush, and it actually works really well.

Or, well, it _would_ work really well if Keiji didn’t feel like the sheer volume of it is going to blow him away from where he stands. Considering they’re almost at the edge of the low stage and very near the boxes, that’s no surprise, and he kind of wishes he’d just stayed in the back. His ears are going to thank him for this, good god.

The bass is pounding in his ears and reverberating through the room, and he can feel it resonating through his veins. He’s not sure if he likes it, but decides it is strangely exhilarating. This is the first time he’s seeing Bokuto’s band live and they’re much better than what he heard from the sound files, especially when Shimizu joins in to sing the harmonies and maybe it’s the context of it, but even knowing the lyrics, they don’t sound half bad anymore.

They’re not putting on much of a show, but they’re definitely having fun. Who-he-thinks-is-Kuroo is shouting in key more than he’s singing and it works perfectly, and Bokuto’s bright smile is lighting up the room as always. Shimizu looks highly concentrated on the music while the keyboardist seems almost lazy, but what he can hear from the notes sounds expertly crafted nonetheless. Why isn’t that one at Karasuno?

When the song fades out the crowd cheers loudly and Keiji thinks he can hear Semi say, “Fuck me, they’re actually good.” It makes him proud in a way – these are his best friend and his band absolutely killing it.

“What’s with that smug grin?” Oikawa asks next to him, but he’s wearing one himself, so he doesn’t think he needs to do any explaining.

Terushima would like this, he thinks. It’s a shame he couldn’t make it – oh well, maybe next time.

The music starts up again, and then most-likely-Kuroo clears his throat and says, “This one’s for the Karasuno cafeteria cupcakes. They’re good shit.”

Incredible. They’re actually performing that.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but a punk-rock rendition of the _Ducktales_ intro with changed lyrics and originally composed verses thrown in wasn’t it. By the second chorus he’s cackling, and by the third one he joins in with the “woohoo”. It’s way more fun than it should be, and he didn’t even drink anything or something like that. He doesn’t know his drunk self very well, as he’s only really drunk alcohol once, but he’s pretty sure he’d be dying of laughter around this time.

By the time they’re at their third song, something about highways if he understands everything correctly (what is it with their fixation on car motives?), his head is throbbing and he’s feeling dizzy. It takes him a moment to register it’s probably because of the atrocious air that doesn’t even deserve that name, but he doesn’t want to go out and take a break, not yet, so he focuses on standing without falling over.

Keiji blinks, once, twice, to get rid of the blotches of colour spreading out on his vision. He’s not going to pass out twice in a week, god damn it, especially not now that he’s not suffering from sleep deprivation. Still, how does anyone do this sort of thing on a regular basis? Do you get used to breathing a mix of dust and the distinct smell of sweat and alcohol? If only they could open a window or something …

Oikawa says something to him but he can’t understand it over the music, so he just laughs a little and shakes his head. The other doesn’t look that happy with it and proceeds to tug at his sleeve, then pointing at the closed door at the back of the room with a very adamant facial expression.

Keiji has no real choice but to follow him along as he pulls him through the crowd and finally outside, the metal door falling shut behind them.

“I said ‘you okay?’ You’re really pale.”

Now that he’s away from the action he can see that no, he is most definitely not okay, and breathing in the cool night air while the music is muffled behind the door makes him realise that he was actually pretty close to passing out in there.

“Wow, I’m pathetic,” he breathes out and a giggle escapes. “Thanks.”

It’s a miracle Oikawa even noticed that though. Was Keiji the only one so wrapped up in the music? He doubts it.

“It’s nothing. Just don’t pass out on me again, I can’t handle that stress,” Oikawa jokes and lays a hand on his upper arm. “You’re terrible at communicating this kind of thing, you know that?”

“I’m terrible at communicating in general,” Keiji says.

“Touché.”

“You don’t have to wait for me,” he says when they don’t say anything for a while and the dull headache and the colours ebb off.

Oikawa smiles, almost caringly. “I know. But it’s late, and who knows what kind of people are wandering around here …”

“I can defend myself,” Keiji argues despite being very well aware that that’s not true. He knows some self-defence basics, but he’s not all that strong, and it’s been a while since he learned them. Oikawa … Honestly doesn’t look much more intimidating.

“Sure you can, Akaacchi, just like you could power through a day after pulling an all-nighter and listen to music without almost blacking out …” If he had a pillow, he’d hit him with that right now.

Instead he just sighs and leans back against the wall, feeling the throb of the music. “I guess. What about Semi-san?”

“He’ll be okay,” Oikawa says and waves the topic off just like that. “Let’s just make sure you won’t be dead before we meet Bo-kun and the others.”

“So that’s a ‘we’ now?” He’s not too surprised, considering Oikawa seems to be friends with the band, but he really does have a tendency to insert himself into Keiji’s life, huh. Who would have thought it would come to this? He needs to capitalise on that, and learn from him like he originally intended.

At the same time, though, he genuinely wants to get along. And they do, they do right now and they did in the practice room and they did on the terrace. Still he can’t shake off the feeling that this might end very, very quickly if something goes wrong.

He doesn’t want to think about it right now, though.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight or you’ll run off and get yourself ran over by something, knowing your luck,” he says sternly and pats him on the head. “My precious kouhai can be really dumb sometimes.”

He doesn’t want to say it out loud, but he thinks, _He really can._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but what on earth happened to Futakuchi and Terushima


	9. Farewell Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to name this one "Farewell Fair" but it didn't make sense in context with the song. dangit. it's such a nice title too. ;_____;
> 
> I'm posting this at a time that's not 3 or 4 AM? miracles and magic do exist! (if you get that reference, I like you.) well, it's still past midnight, but hey, small improvements are still improvements.
> 
> you know, I kind of wanted this to be longer, but it was a good place to cut it and even though it felt like way less, it's over 4k as usual, so? at least it's faster?
> 
> this could have been done way sooner but I'm working on four things simultaneously right now ... this, The Edge of In Between aka a sentence a day keeps the updates away, a Dark Woods Circus AU that has yet to go anywhere, and a very painful thing that's already exceeded 7k despite being what, five days old? not a single one of them isn't Akaoi and I'm pretty sure that someday, I alone will catapult the tag out of its rarepair status. watch there being 1k fics and 95% of them mine. I'm predicting it right now. now you might be saying it's unimaginative to constantly be writing the same pairing to which I say ... you have a point but why are you implying I can simply stop? it's not. that easy. I'm a slave to my OTP. it happens
> 
> ... god I'm so mad I'll never be able to use the title "Farewell Fair" now goshdarnit

By the time they’re back inside, the band is on their last song. It’s a surprisingly calm one, still loud and with a heavy bass but distinctly slower and less exciting.

“ _But you / you turned away / before you even noticed_ ,” Kuroo sings and with the pace of the song, Keiji can hear a gentle rasp in his voice that sounds absolutely stunning. As much as he suited those loud ones, he seems to have a hidden talent, and he can’t help but be envious.

There’s no way for them to get back in front so they stand in the back, leaning against the wall and watching what they can see behind the crowd. Sometimes being tall is a blessing.

“ _But I / I looked ahead / and let you go._ ”

The tone of the song is dark and melancholic, and while it started with rather high notes when he came back, it sounds like it’s getting lower. It’s nothing he’s used to from them – strangely serious.

“ _I understand, I understand / but still I cannot quite believe._ ”

Shimizu’s voice echoes quietly in the background, and by now he can tell why she’s in choir. He’s never heard her since she doesn’t have solos and blends in well with the other sopranos, but her voice is breathtaking.

“ _As the clock’s ticking by / one second, one step / and all the curtains fall / I want to stop it all!_ ”

Who wrote this? And for whom? He would have never expected those four to come up with something this … Poetically pleasant. There’s genuine hurt poured into it, and the performance is heartfelt to the point where Keiji thinks back to the entrance ceremony.

“Geez, Kuro-chan, talk about being subtle. You should have told me, you know,” Oikawa mutters next to him, and it’s only due to the volume of the song and their distance that he’s able to hear it.

“Told you what?” He’s not sure why he’s asking, as he’s not expecting a proper answer anyway.

Oikawa sighs and shakes his head. “He’s really dumb for someone this smart. I think he really believes if he just sings what he feels, nobody will notice, even though it’s the exact opposite. And, I mean, we’re _friends_ , so he shouldn’t have to.”

Okay, now he’s more confused than before. Is there a love story going on he’s not aware of or is this something completely different? It certainly sounds like it, but whether Oikawa’s actually involved is another question altogether. He might just be playing his usual _this is my business even though it clearly isn’t_ card that he appears to be so good at.

The thought of Oikawa Tooru being involved in a romantic drama with the lead singer of a wannabe-punk rock band without a name is weirdly comical. It would certainly make for an entertaining movie or book, but as it is now, it just feels off somehow. Maybe that’s on him, he knows nothing about Kuroo after all except for his voice, his texting style, and the fact that he probably doesn’t know how to use a hairbrush.

“ _But if you look back / meet me halfway / when the leaves turn_.”

The song fades out slowly, the last bass note resonating for a while, and then the crowd cheers.

“Thank you!” Kuroo shouts and Keiji thinks he hears Bokuto in the background shouting with him, which, considering he doesn’t have a vocal microphone, is an impressive feat over the noise of the crowd.

After that it’s over quickly – there’s no encore and the room clears out after not that long of a moment, until less than half of the people originally here are left and he can finally move back up to the stage again.

“Bokuto-san!” he calls as the band is gathering their stuff and Bokuto’s head immediately snaps in his direction, his eyes lighting up and his mouth falling open. Before he knows it his friend is running at him and jumping down the stage to wrap him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Careful, Kou, don’t kill him,” Kuroo says with a laugh and Keiji is very thankful for it, as he wasn’t able to while he was being suffocated.

Once he’s free again he shakes it off – Bokuto’s hugs are great unless he’s too excited, then they turn deadly, and he’s definitely excited now.

His friend’s smile suddenly drops. “I thought you left!”

“Why would I leave? You guys were great.” Does he really think Keiji would just bail on him after watching the beginning?

“Yeah, well, I saw you in the front row but then you suddenly weren’t there anymore …”

“By the way,” Kuroo interjects, “if you’re looking for Semi, he’s outside. Looks like he got a call or something.” Oh, right, Semi was here, too.

Not that it matters right now. “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san,” he says and he genuinely is. If he thinks about it, it would probably hurt him too if he was in his position. “I wasn’t feeling well so I had to go out to get some fresh air.”

Oikawa clears his throat behind him. “Uhm, _actually_ you had no intention of going out and I had to drag you—”

“ _Specifics_ ,” he says in a bad attempt at imitating his voice, which seems to work because Oikawa gasps in shock.

“Nice one, Akaashi,” Kuroo says and gives them a sly grin. “We can get along.”

“Kuroo-san, I suppose?” Keiji asks. If he isn’t, he’s really more stupid than he thought.

“Yup. And that guy on the keyboard is Kenma … Wait, where did he go?” The keyboardist is nowhere to be seen, and Shimizu points at a door at the side. Kuroo sighs deeply. “Kozume Kenma. If you ever get him to talk to you, congratulations. You know Kiyoko and I’ve gotta go or Kenma’s gonna get lost again. Don’t let Oikawa bully you, bye!” And then, muffled in the background, “Kenma I swear to _fuck_ —”

“If anything, you’re the bully!” Oikawa calls but he doubts Kuroo heard it.

“Anyway …” Keiji starts again and clears his throat. “Great performance.” It feels lame, but he doesn’t know what else to say, especially considering he missed a big chunk of it.

It seems to cheer Bokuto up though, as the smile returns to his face. “Hell yeah it was! We all had so much fun! Even Kiyoko and Kenma, even though they don’t look like it.”

Before leaving through the same door that Kuroo took, Shimizu nods and smiles ever so faintly. In this moment, Keiji can clearly see why everyone keeps falling for her – has he ever seen anything so beautiful?

It’s strange to hear Bokuto use first names though. He must be really close to these people if he does, or maybe it’s just the atmosphere of the band. If he really had joined them, saying ‘Bokuto-san’ would have probably felt weird.

“What was your favourite? Tetsu said if people don’t like _Resting Area_ he’s quitting, so please don’t say you hated that one.” Was that the one about highways? And why would you even name your song _Resting Area_? Was it written by the same person who wrote that amazing last one? So many questions, so little answers, but that’s nothing new.

“Sure, I liked that one,” he says. It’s not a lie, it just wasn’t his favourite, either, but Bokuto never seemed to care. He’s a simple person at his core, and people agreeing with him is his favourite thing.

“You know …” Oikawa murmurs and narrows his eyes. “I just thought of it, but Kuro-chan’s kind of destroying your pattern, isn’t he?”

Keiji and Bokuto cock their heads at the same time, and he’d want to laugh about it if he wasn’t so confused. Kuroo fits the band perfectly.

“I mean, you’re … Koutarou, Kenma, Kiyoko … And Tetsurou. Why can’t his first name be Kuroo? It would be so much more satisfying if you all started with K.”

He doesn’t even know what to say to that. Oikawa has a point, sure, but is this really important? Of course it’s not. Bokuto, however, looks and sounds deep in thought, humming to himself while stroking his chin. Eventually, he claps his hand together, eyes wide open as if he’d just figured out the secret of this world. Does he know Terushima? Because by know, Keiji is fairly certain those two should never, ever meet, or else the world might implode or something.

“We have to switch Tetsu out for Akaashi!”

“Uhm,” Keiji starts but is interrupted by Bokuto staring him straight in the eyes. Sometimes he really does look like an owl, and not just because of the hair.

“I mean, you’re Keiji! Koutarou, Kiyoko, Kenma, and Keiji! It’s perfect!” Suddenly he freezes for a moment, pulls back, and furrows his eyebrows. “But who would write our songs then?”

So it really is Kuroo who composes or whatever it can be called. Upon wanting to exchange a doubtful look with Oikawa, he only sees a smile that couldn’t more obviously say ‘he has a point’. Maybe his so-called newly acquired friend just wants to get rid of him – if Keiji were to join the band, he wouldn’t have time for choir. He shoots back a slightly pissed off glare before turning back to Bokuto.

“You need a guitarist. I can’t do that. And you’re not seriously considering ditching your frontman who I assume is your friend just because Oikawa-san is annoyed by your name constellation, are you?” He shouldn’t even be asking, he knows exactly he’s seriously considering it. Bokuto can be very impressionable and Oikawa seems to be very good at impressing on people. It’s a dangerous combination and once again proves his taste in people to surround himself with needs to severely improve.

“But maybe we could finally have a name when we all match,” Bokuto argues and Keiji sighs.

“‘You don’t need a name when you’re as memorable as us’, wasn’t it?”

“That’s what I said! But the school board says it’s just annoying and a hassle to organise …”

This is his friend. These are his life choices. Clearly, not very good ones, but now he’s stuck with them. Somehow, he’s also grateful for it; someone needs to take care of Bokuto at least every once in a while, that big dumb teddy bear … Plush owl?

“Don’t worry, Bokuto-san, you’ll come up with something.”

“But nothing is as cool as we are!”

Oikawa snorts and Keiji lightly punches him in the elbow without even looking at him. “You just need time. If you all get together and brainstorm, it’s going to work.” Or so he hopes.

“Yeah …” Bokuto says but his face has dropped again. “It’s already hard enough to get everyone together for practice though.”

Right when Keiji is about to ask why, Oikawa says, “I can imagine. Kiyoko’s in choir, Ken-chan doesn’t even go here, and Kuro-chan has enough to do with his special electives.”

Kuroo is taking special electives? Why on earth would you take extra classes at _Karasuno_? Is he a masochist?

“But if they’re still here playing with you, it’s important to them.” He’s more thinking out loud than anything, but he does think he has a point. Solutions can always be found if you look hard enough for them, especially for smaller things like these. “You’ll be fine.”

“Kou!” Kuroo’s voice interrupts their conversation and his head appears at the doorframe as Shimizu walks by him, carrying her equipment without sparing him a second glance. “Kenma’s mom’s treating us to ramen, so you better hurry up!”

Bokuto’s expression lights up immediately, somewhat similar to a child who’s just been told they’d be visiting Disneyworld, and he shouts back, “Food! I’m starving!”

“C’mon then, we don’t have all night.”

“Coming!” he sing-songs and is about to dash up before stopping in motion and looking back at Keiji and Oikawa. “Uh, I’d invite you guys but I don’t really wanna bother Kenma’s mom, they’re not that well-off …” Something about the way he looks at him while he’s saying that seems to add, ‘and since you eat so much we might run out of money’. He’d feel insulted, but it’s just plain true. “Maybe next time?”

“Can’t we just pay on our own?” Oikawa asks with a raised eyebrow, but Bokuto shakes his head.

“No, that would just make things more complicated … But really, next time!”

“Next time, yeah,” Keiji repeats. “See you then.”

“See you!!” He darts toward the exit with what he could swear is drool dripping down his chin. It was a pretty long gig, so it’s probably obvious he must be starving. On top of that, since he’s Bokuto, he’s always hungry.

Still, that was kind of …

“What a terrible excuse.”

Keiji can only nod. Them talking like that just then, it almost felt like it was high school all over again, but sometimes he wishes Bokuto wasn’t so bad at hiding his emotions. It’s almost like a slap in the face, knowing that he just didn’t want him there.

He can _understand_ it, sure, it’s a thing for his band and all that, but he could have said that outright.

“Let’s go find Semi-san and leave,” he mutters, even though he doesn’t know if Semi’s even still here. He figures he’d at least have the decency to tell them when he goes home, though, so he’s most likely still outside.

Even though he isn’t looking at him, he can feel Oikawa’s gaze on him. He’s probably trying to figure out what happened, and knowing him, he has some sort of background information that makes the whole equation much easier to solve. Even so, he can’t bring himself to ask.

After a few seconds, Oikawa says, “We can go grab something to eat too. Not that you pass out again.”

“From malnutrition? Would be a first.” But he can’t deny he’s hungry, and the prospect of cooking something doesn’t sound all that appealing, so it’s a very tempting proposal. Mentally he counts his money – he didn’t take too much, so they’d have to go someplace cheap, unless he can get Oikawa or Semi if he’s coming with them to pay for him, which he wouldn’t really like to do. They’re all just students with likely small budgets. But it should be enough to at least get him something warm. “As long as it’s not too expensive, I’m fine with it.”

“Perfect, I know just the right place.” He’s not sure he trusts Oikawa’s judgement, but he decides if it ends up a disaster, he’ll make him pay anyway. It was his idea, after all. “Now where’s Semisemi?”

 

* * *

 

“He lost the keys. He lost the _keys_ ,” Semi groans for the third time now while they’re sitting at the table, eating surprisingly good fried rice. Keiji would answer something, but while he usually doesn’t mind speaking with his mouth full, right now it just wouldn’t work. He knew he was hungry but he only just realised just _how_ hungry when he finally got food.

“So both of you are locked out now?” Oikawa asks and side-eyes Semi as he’s playing with his chopsticks. If he doesn’t use those to eat the other half of his rice pan anytime soon, Keiji’s just going to steal his food. It shouldn’t go to waste, his stomach would be a much better place for it.

“Yup. No idea where I’m gonna stay. Why did I ever think it was a good idea to live with Satori?”

Tendou Satori, as Keiji has gathered from their conversation, is Semi’s friend from high school who’s currently studying International Business Management, something that, as Semi very much likes to point out, makes absolutely no sense for someone like him. He sounds roughly like a less sane mix of Terushima and Sarukui on a bad day, and not like someone he’d usually get acquainted with.

“Where’s Tendou-san staying?” he asks when he’s finally swallowed the rice.

“Some guy from one of his classes. I don’t know him.”

“I’d say you could come to my place, but unless you like sleeping on the floor, that won’t work.” It’s only half of the truth. Despite Terushima’s valiant efforts of breaking into his apartment, he doesn’t particularly like the idea of inviting people over. It’s his sanctuary, somewhat. Of course, if he actually had a futon or a couch that wasn’t also his bed, he’d let him in, he’s not a terrible person, but he doesn’t. Actually, he should probably get an air mattress or something, you never know what might happen.

“I’ll probably just get a hotel room, but thanks anyway,” Semi says and sighs. “Fuck this shit.”

“I have a sofa,” Oikawa interjects and waves his chopsticks at him. “Not the most comfortable thing in the world, but good enough, I guess. And considerably less expensive.”

“Seriously? You’re a lifesaver!”

Well, he could have probably said that sooner, but it’s the thought that counts. He wonders what the dorms look like, though, if they actually have a couch; he imagined them to be more like what Fukurodani had, with a bed, a closet, and that’s pretty much it. Is there enough space for a piano or can the students just use the ones provided by the schools? He’ll have to find that out eventually, now he’s curious.

Furthermore, Oikawa’s rice is still sitting there and it’s becoming increasingly difficult not to lean over the table and snatch it from him. Could he do it in a way that he wouldn’t notice? Considering they’re opposite each other, it might be difficult, but maybe he can be sneaky …

“You know, Akaacchi, if you stare at my food any harder you’re going to vaporise it.”

Or not.

“Just eat it and I won’t have to,” he says, although he would prefer for him to just hand it over, as his own plate is empty by now.

“You sound like my mother, geez.”

“Someone has to be the mom friend,” Keiji and Semi reply at the exact same time and stare at each other for a moment before snorting and shooting Oikawa a final glance of ‘you can’t win this’.

“What are you two, long-lost twins?” he whines and finally pushes his plate over to Keiji. “If you want it so badly, here. It was too much anyway.”

Semi nods, his gaze trained on the plate. “It was a big portion.”

“Not that big,” Keiji argues before digging in.

The rest of the evening passes relatively quickly. He doesn’t talk much, but listening to Semi and Oikawa bicker is fun and some sort of relaxing. Sometimes, he’s glad that the people he’s met at Karasuno so far are ones that don’t try to talk to him when he’s content with standing by, and he feels like he could jump in if he wanted to. They kind of remind him of Terushima and Mai.

They leave the small diner after paying – and obviously, Oikawa knows a guy, because there’s no way this could have been cheap enough for him to still have some money left – and Semi heads over to the bus stop with quick steps, leaving the other two a bit behind.

“You’ll get home?” Oikawa asks and Keiji nods.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve never been here before, but I’ve taken this bus. It’s in the opposite direction than you two though.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? You won’t get lost? Take the wrong bus? Do you have to switch at some point or can you go straight home?”

Keiji can’t help but laugh a bit. “Who’s the mom friend now?”

“Just making sure before anyone blames me for not taking care of you properly. Semisemi and I know our way around, but I can bet you didn’t have much time to explore yet.”

Oh, how right he is. It’s kind of sad in a way, and he didn’t particularly care about exploring anyway, spending most of his scarce off time either practicing or lounging around by himself. Still, he trusts himself enough to believe he won’t end up somewhere completely different from where he’s supposed to go.

“I appreciate it,” he says, because he does. It’s almost cute how protective Oikawa can be, even if it’s unwarranted. “But I’m going to be fine. You don’t need to watch out for me like this.”

“I can’t help but worry …” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “One of my kouhai in junior high once got lost in Tokyo, it was a traumatising experience. Won’t let that happen again.”

Maybe he’s a more selfless person than Keiji thought. Of course, he could be wrong and this might all just be an act, but he doesn’t want to think that. He likes this Oikawa, overbearing as he is.

“If anything goes wrong, I can still call you, you know.”

“Hey, quit flirting and head over here, the bus is coming in a minute!” Semi shouts from the bus stop and Keiji can’t help the heat rising to his cheeks as he takes a quick step away, not that they were standing that closely to begin with. Did it look like flirting from an outside perspective? He knows it wasn’t, but it’s still a strange thought, but then again Semi most likely just wanted for Oikawa to get his butt over to the bus stop and maybe it didn’t look like that at all.

“Uhm,” he says, hurrying to regain his composure. Terushima would surely make fun of him – Akaashi Keiji, flustered at the mere implications of anything romantic that were most likely a joke anyway. Not exactly his brightest moment. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Akaacchi,” Oikawa says and flashes him a peace sign when he turns around and joins Semi at the bus stop, just as the bus arrives.

Damn him for not even being fazed. It makes Keiji look like an idiot.

 

* * *

 

Mai gives him a very strange look that Tuesday, and he almost doesn’t notice until in the middle of their class work session, she asks, “Earth to Aka-kun? Where are you right now?”

“The library,” he instinctively replies and furrows his eyebrows at his own statement. That wasn’t the question. Was it?

“From the looks of it, not really,” she says and snickers. “You’ve been so absent ever since yesterday, I’m pretty sure some people have stopped trying to talk to you because they think it’s useless anyway.”

Absent? Is he really? He’d consider himself fairly focused. Just because he keeps thinking about the evening of the concert and especially Oikawa’s ominous statement about the last song that has been haunting him for the last two nights doesn’t mean his mind is entirely somewhere else.

They came back to him after he left the two second years that night, those words of _I think he really believes if he just sings what he feels, nobody will notice_ , coupled with the dark tones of the song. It’s probably not his place to ask, as he doesn’t know Kuroo at all despite their one text conversation and brief meeting, but for some reason, he can’t let go of it.

“That’s what I mean,” Mai’s voice snaps him out of his thought process and it’s just now that he notices she’s waving a hand directly in front of his face.

Damn it. He really _is_ absent.

“Sorry, I …” What can he say, though? _I keep thinking about a song I have no business to care about this much?_ “I’m thinking,” he ends lamely.

“Teru-kun should teach you how to stop doing that. At this rate, you’ll walk into a pole.”

“There aren’t many poles around here,” Keiji argues and tries to concentrate on the work sheet in front of him. It’s supposed to be teaching him about the common features of Baroque era music but all he takes away from it is _communication_ , and not even in context.

“How do you know? Have you counted them?” She leans over to quickly doodle a stick figure walking into a line that’s likely supposed to be a pole on his work sheet. “How many poles are ‘many’? I’d say it’s a matter of perspective. Just like …” Mai taps her pencil on the word ‘emotion’ three times and when he looks up at her, she’s wearing an almost serene smile, with her head propped up on her hand. “Music can invoke different feelings, even if it’s the same song on the same instrument. It all depends on how you play it.”

“Well, obviously.” He thinks back to his impromptu rendition of _Crystalline_ at the practice camp; a much happier sounding version of the usually heavier song that still flows lightly.

Come to think of it, he still doesn’t really understand that one, despite being acquainted with its composer now.

“It’s so weird, isn’t it? It’s just some sounds, but they can make us laugh and move us to tears. Baroque is all about that by the way, which you surely know if you’ve properly read the work sheet instead of spacing out.”

“I know that.” That part he understood, it wasn’t all that hard to get. “I just don’t get _how_ they’re doing it. What kind of techniques they use to create those emotions.”

“That’s my part,” Mai says and hold her own paper out to him. “You take care of the why, and I take care of the how. Partnered task, remember?”

“As long as you teach me in the end …” She can call it a partnered task all she wants, they’re really just splitting the work voluntarily, so he’d have no excuse for not studying her part. But maybe it’s a good thing, it’s been working a lot better than staring at a piece of paper trying to absorb the information ever since they’ve first started doing it.

“Have I ever disappointed you?”

“Good thing you aren’t Terushima, because I could name numerous occasions if that were the case,” he jokes with a soft smile, and Mai laughs quietly.

“Nope, he doesn’t disappoint, he just comes up with really weird stuff.”

“Said the girl who improvised the majority of the UNO song.”

“What can I say? I get into it. Besides, it was still his idea, and the name is _Live from Yukiyama, thank you very much_.” She sings the last few words in that godforsaken melody and it’s enough to get it stuck in his head again. It was hard enough to get out of it in the first place, and he hopes the look of discomfort and intended murder is enough to get his message across. It seems to be, as she holds a hand to her mouth in an effort not to laugh out loud.

“ _Live from Yukiyama_ …”

“Why don’t we get this done so we can call it a day?” he asks sharply and holds Mai’s work sheet in her face until she takes it with a reluctantly agreeing sound.

 _You take care of the why, and I take care of the how._ It feels backwards to what they usually do, but maybe she’s right, and sometimes all you need is a different perspective.

As he reads the words over and over again, underlining things and trying to filter out the most theoretical aspects, Keiji thinks it might be easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's funny Keiji's saying Tendou's not someone he'd usually associate with, considering how his own friend circle isn't that much better. though way less straight-out-of-a-horror-manga-esque. maybe someday they'll meet.


	10. A Misconception of Naïve Ideals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been in Berlin these last few days and as soon as I got home I kinda churned out 2k5 straight so. uhm. the final part of everything but you was supposed to be done before this but it just. happened. ya feel
> 
> I missed writing this fic even though it was only for three days;;;;;;;; it's ... so important to me .............. more important than any fic has ever been to me I think, even my originals, which are all super important to me but like. my choir au my precious choir au who would've ever thought this thing that I started on a whim despite better judgement would become like this
> 
> the most important thing this chapter does is reestablish the fact that Akaashi Keiji has no idea what's going on 90% of the time when will I ever let him rest he doesn't deserve this and yet
> 
> the lyrics in this one are cheating, I just translated my German ones for Jiyuu no Tsubasa (http://ohmaekumiko.tumblr.com/post/132371520362 there's a YouTube video but this one has the translated lyrics sooo). I just really love those. probably my fav translyrics I've ever done even after ... what, two years? or more? and they fit very well in context so why make up new ones when I already have these?

The deep, dark notes of a contrabass fill the hallway as Keiji walks along, looking for the room he has been told he can practice the violin in. He can’t tell where exactly the sounds are coming from, but it has to be quite loud if he can hear it all the way down here, a fairly rare occurrence for, well, a contrabass.

He doesn’t know much about the instrument, as low notes aren’t exactly his forte, but even he can tell it’s being expertly played, every last sound full and warm. If he wasn’t so focused on his own instruments, he could almost fall in love with it.

Still, is it really supposed to be this loud?

He knows he shouldn’t get side-tracked, or he might lose his way in this damn labyrinth of brightly painted hallways and a myriad of wooden doors that all look the exact same save for some notes posted on several, but at the same time he wants to know where it’s coming from. Someone playing an instrument at Karasuno is far from a rare occurrence, so it might be kind of childish, but he decides it can’t hurt to have a sense of curiosity from time to time.

(That is, unless he gets lost. He still hasn’t memorised half of this place.)

He follows the sound, taking turns deeper and deeper into the building until he stands before a room with a wide open door and a single person inside, if the lack of noises other than the contrabass are any indication.

Yes, that’s definitely the source, it’s impossible to overhear. Now that he’s here he’s getting second thoughts – interrupting practice is rude (this goes out to Oikawa especially) and just looking without consent feels like it’s spying.

But hey, if they left the door open, so they set themselves up for it, right?

The contrabass is huge, but it looks almost small in comparison to the man playing it. He’s tall, extremely tall, taller than Keiji or Oikawa, and his broad shoulders are a good indicator he’s not neglecting his fitness. He looks older, but Keiji can’t quite pinpoint just how old, has short hair in a colour that reminds him of Mai’s, though significantly darker, and the expression on his face hangs somewhere between serene and far too intense for something as artsy as playing an instrument. Honestly, he half looks like he’s stemming weights right now. It’s a bit comical.

He’s also looking directly into Keiji’s direction.

Before he can make a run for it, the man abruptly stops playing and narrows his eyes, and now he’s done it, he’s going to get mad, he knew this was a bad idea so why did he do it? Is Terushima rubbing off on him?

“I’m sorry,” he says, thankfully without stumbling over his own words. “I heard you play and I was curious.”

“I don’t mind it,” the man answers and his voice is almost as low as his instrument. If he were to sing in choir, he’d definitely be a bass. “Are you from this school?”

Wait, so he isn’t? Why would someone who isn’t actually a student at Karasuno practice cooped up in a room like this, one that’s fairly small and fairly hidden? Or maybe he’s just wondering if Keiji is because he’s never seen him before.

“Yes,” he says simply in lack of a better response.

“My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

Ushijima Wakatoshi … He feels like he’s heard that name before, but he can’t place it. He’s confident he’s never seen him until today, so maybe it was mentioned in a magazine of some sort? Or someone dropped the name?

But he should probably introduce himself. “I’m Akaashi Keiji.”

Ushijima seems to be thinking for a moment, lightly cocking his head, and in some way it reminds him of a dog. Or Sawamura. Possibly both.

“Do you know Oikawa Tooru?”

Oh, wonderful. Just _wonderful_. People have started associating them. How, he has no idea, but he doesn’t know what to feel about it. “I … Yes. He’s in choir with me.”

That doesn’t quite seem to cut it, but everything else is harder to explain. It still feels impossible to call him a friend, at least out loud.

“Ah, good. Please tell him I came by. He isn’t answering my calls, so I wanted to see him personally.”

Or … Maybe … He’s not associating them at all? From this, it sounds more like he just wants to speak to Oikawa and is taking shots in the dark, hoping for the person that just stumbled upon his practice to know him personally. If that’s the case, why not just search for Oikawa in the first place?

“Uh, of course.” Then again, does Oikawa really _want_ to see him if he isn’t taking his calls? How often has Ushijima tried? While he’s less intimidating than Keiji originally assumed, he has no idea what his deal is. “Anything else I can do?”

Ushijima looks down at his contrabass, contemplating. Then, after a moment, he says, “Was there something off in my play that made you come here?”

Oh, he wants musical advice. That’s fine. He can deal with musical advice. “No. On the contrary, I was looking for it because it sounded so good. It’s … Loud, though.”

“Of course it is,” he answers, looking kind of confused. “It has to support the orchestra properly.”

So he’s an orchestra player – that explains a lot. “Are you playing at Karasuno?” If he’s with the big one, which Keiji has no doubt he could be, he’ll need to be playing loudly indeed. Just because the bass section isn’t at the forefront doesn’t mean it should get completely drowned out.

“I am not going to Karasuno.” His first thought was right after all, then. Although it does make him wonder what he’s doing here. Is it really his place to ask? Before he can decide, though, Ushijima asks, “Is that a viola or a violin?”

Keiji needs a moment to understand what he meant until he remembers the violin case on his back. If you carry it around all the time, it becomes an easy weight to forget, it seems. “Violin.” Speaking of which, he was supposed to take his time here to practice, not stumble around looking for a stray contrabassist.

“Ah.” They look at each other in silence and it quickly becomes awkward. What is he doing here in the first place? He’ll have to leave eventually, and the sooner the better.

“Anyway,” he starts and clears his throat. “I have to go. I’ll tell Oikawa-san what you said, and … Uh … See you.”

He receives a nod and a grunt that sounds like a _goodbye_ , and then quickly leaves the room, pacing down the hallway until he finds his starting point again.

Well, that was certainly … A thing.

When he arrives at the room he was initially looking for, one not all that different from the one Ushijima is practicing in, he closes the door and sets down his violin case with a sigh, then scrambles for his phone and quickly texts Oikawa.

_I’ve met an Ushijima Wakatoshi, he said to tell you he came by. Wants to see you, apparently._

He doesn’t know what he's doing, so he might be occupied, but that’s one duty he’s relieved of, he supposes. If he ever stumbles into Ushijima again, at least he’ll be able to tell him he followed his request.

Not soon after, just as he’s adjusting the tuning on his violin, his phone buzzes.

_USHIWAKA-CHAN IS HERE?_

Is that … Good capslock or bad capslock?

 _how dare he just walk in as if he owns the place and then talk to you? who does he think he is_ _｡゜_ _(_ _｀_ _Д´_ _)_ _゜｡_

Ah, so bad capslock it is.

_tell him I don’t want anything to do with him!! I’m ignoring him for a reason!!_

Half of him is afraid to ask, but his curious half shoves it aside. _I take it you’re not friends?_

 _HELL NO_ , comes the answer in record speed. _I hate him! he always ruins everything!!_

Is that something to take seriously when he’s throwing such a temper tantrum? Something tells Keiji that true anger or hate coming from Oikawa would be quieter and far, far more terrifying. Who is Ushijima, his ex-boyfriend? Sounds like an odd couple.

_Either way, he wanted to talk to you, it seems. Maybe it’s important._

_nothing that guy says is important, even he wants it to sound like that_ , Oikawa shoots back and Keiji is absolutely certain he’s pouting right now.

Does he really want to get any more involved with this? He might get caught in the cross-fire, but he’s wondering what’s behind all of this. Maybe it’s a petty high school rivalry, or maybe more. This is one of those things that are going to keep him awake at night.

He does still have to practice though, which, again, is why he came here in the first place, so he decides that if he really wants to know, he’ll have to ask some other time. _Alright then. I’m off, need to practice._

 _have fun_ _꒰_ _˘̩̩̩_ _w˘̩̩̩_ _๑_ _꒱_ _♥_

What’s with the heart emoji? How stupid.

He picks up his violin with a sigh, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t concentrate, and his practice session is over before he knows it.

 

* * *

 

He’s early to choir. As in, really early. So early nobody else is here and the grand piano stands untouched in the middle of the room, tempting him.

Surely, if Oikawa was playing on it, it should be alright? Nekomata never said anything against it, but the topic didn’t come up as far as he can remember.

His audition feels far in the past now, but he still distinctly remembers the feeling of playing the instrument, heavy keys, resonating sound, _satisfying_. And he’ll be damned if he isn’t a pianist that can appreciate those things.

Somehow, his mind travels back to Ushijima as he tests the feeling of the keys and pedals. His contrabass play would certainly compliment him on the piano, no doubt, and once again he wonders why Oikawa doesn’t like him. Maybe it’s precisely because he’s so good.

Instead of going with the pieces from choir, Keiji settles on one he recently found on YouTube and liked, a fun rendition of a popular anime opening. Not usually his style, but it was written in such a way even he could fall in love with it, and thankfully, the pianist provided the sheets. He even brought them today, as he wants to show Mai later. Maybe they can do a voiced version of it, just for fun, not that they have the time. If they could pass it off as work for a class, they might, though.

He’ll take this as practice, so he plays carefully, maybe a bit too much so, as the impact of the song doesn’t quite come across as well as it did in the video. Once he’s through, he tries again, this time less hell-bent on following the notes and instead peppering the arrangement with his own style – mostly long held notes and quick triplets once it gets higher, and he’s much happier with it, but something is still lacking. He’d say it’s that he isn’t used to the song yet but that doesn’t seem to be it.

Unconsciously, his head turns and his gaze gets caught on the door, but he’s still alone. _Where is Oikawa-san when you need him?_

Although he probably doesn’t need Oikawa, per se. Anyone with some idea as to how he could improve this would be decent. Oikawa just happens to be the person apparently intent on crashing his practices, and even though it hasn’t been that many times, he’s growing kind of used to it.

He’s always running into him, it seems. It was the same at the concert, and then today through Ushijima. Sometimes he wonders if joining choir was necessary at all, if the universe likes to push them together like this anyway.

But choir isn’t just about Oikawa, hasn’t been from the start.

“Akaashi?”

The voice that interrupts him isn’t Oikawa’s, but a rougher one that tells of too loud songs sung for too many nights.

“Kuroo-san,” he says and turns around with a frown. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for Daichi. He’s not here?”

Kuroo knows Sawamura? Who would have guessed. “No. Choir starts in …” He glances at his phone screen. “About forty-five minutes, if you can wait so long.”

“Not really,” Kuroo says and pulls a face, muttering something under his breath that sounds like some sort of curse. “Thanks anyway.”

He’s about to leave, but Keiji isn’t entirely done yet. If it’s that important, surely there has to be a way. “Don’t you have his phone number?”

Kuroo looks at him very weirdly before bursting out laughing, and it sounds kind of like a strangled cat. “Daichi and phones?” he huffs out when he’s calmed down a bit, with Keiji just staring and not having any idea what else to say. Kuroo is a strange person. “Not a good combo.”

Does he even want to know?

“Guess you can’t know that, though. I was just hoping he’d be here, because there’s no other places left to look.”

What is he supposed to say, even? “Sorry I can’t help you,” ends up coming out, but he’s not content with it. He wants to help. This is just another thing on the pile of annoying facts he can’t make anything of. What does Kuroo want from Sawamura? Is it related to the song? Was the person he was singing about Sawamura? Is he overthinking this? Probably.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t actually expecting to find anyone in here.” He turns and carelessly waves at him as he leaves, and when he’s at the doorstep, he turns around a bit and adds, “Nice piano play by the way.”

What. Well, he probably heard him, but still, what. “Uh, thanks,” he says, but Kuroo is already gone.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t get this part,” Terushima whines and slaps the sheets against his own forehead. “It’s dumb! It doesn’t sound good!”

“It’s going to sound good when we sing it,” Oikawa argues and takes the sheet music out of Terushima’s hands, murmuring, “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Keiji would tell him his friend is right and it evidently doesn’t, but he’s only half-heartedly listening, most of his attention focused on the notes Mai scribbled into his _Spica_ sheets. They’re supposed to help, but all he can see is a jumbled mess of colours that makes little to no sense no matter how he reads it. Her atrocious handwriting doesn’t help either. He can make out something that is apparently meant to say he should go for a crescendo at the end, but why on earth would he even do that? It doesn’t add anything except, well, a crescendo. With the rest of the choir joining in quickly after it, it would lose the effect he can only guess she intended for it to have.

“Careful, ‘kaash, you’ll burn a hole into the paper,” Terushima says and leans over to glance at the notes. “Ooh, that staccato could be cool for contrast.”

Staccato? That’s what that was supposed to mean? Why can’t she just write that over the notes like you usually would instead of pointing an arrow signed with a word he can’t read to it?

“No, no, no,” Oikawa chimes in, and Keiji can see him shaking his head from his peripheral vision. “It sounds good in theory, but the whole point of it is that it’s a chain. Breaking that would destroy the meaning _and_ the sound.”

He’s probably more on Oikawa’s side, if he thinks about it, if for a different reason. “If I go for staccato, the instrumental might drown out the vocals. It’s pretty loud as it is, but keeping it legato helped with that. I don’t think the chain part really matters, though.”

Terushima cocks his head, staring at the paper intently with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. “Would it really though? I’d say it would make it stand out more.”

Keiji expects Oikawa to come up with some retort, but it seems they’re on their own now. When he looks up to see if he’s doing something else now instead of bothering with his kouhai, he finds him looking at him with an unreadable expression that’s much different from his usual smile.

He quickly looks away. It’s a bit unnerving, that gaze.

“I’ll have to talk to Mai about it,” he answers a few moments late and more quietly than intended.

Nekomata calls for break to be over, thankfully, and they don’t even get to their duet part today. Next time they’ll get the sheets for _HEART↑BEAT_ and he doesn’t even have to look at Terushima to know he’s quite literally jumping up and down in his seat – he can feel it enough and it’s kind of annoying. They’ll also decide how to progress with the other two songs for the competition, which they still haven’t chosen.

All the while, he feels Oikawa’s eyes on him, despite them being long gone.

 

* * *

 

When he comes home, Keiji almost immediately pulls out his laptop to check if he has gotten any feedback on the essay he sent in a few days ago. It should be about time, but there’s nothing yet, and he’s once again proven that teachers and professors are usually slow, even at a prestigious school like Karasuno.

Today is a novelty in that he’s completely on top of his homework and can’t prepare any work beyond what he’s already done. Sure, school starts again in three days, but it’s the first time he’s had more than a few hours of free time, and frankly, he doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

Maybe he could finally check out the city? He still hasn’t explored it, and while he doesn’t have a real need to, it could be good to find any stores other than the ones he buys his groceries in. Perhaps look for some new clothes, possibly another cardigan, now that the one that used to be Oikawa’s is in the wash.

That in itself is a bit sad, considering it will likely wash away the smell. He’ll have to find out what shampoo and shower gel Oikawa uses, because he really loves the scent, and it’ll be a shame when it’s gone.

The weather is fine, and it’s not yet dark outside, so he should be fine.

Before that, though, he quickly checks his social media to see if there’s anything new, and finds a message on Facebook from Mai.

_a misconception of naïve ideals_

_did those birds not break free_  
_to feel the wind in their wings?_  
_they have not been made earth-bound_  
_thus, they crave the air._

It’s … A poem? Song lyrics, more likely, considering the questionable meter. There’s no other message to explain it, so maybe she just needed to write it down somewhere when she suddenly had the idea. He can’t find a way to sing it, but who knows what she had in mind.

Without any idea how to answer, he just closes the browser, turns off the laptop, and stretches before getting ready to leave again.

 

* * *

 

Sitting on a bench, sipping slush ice, and absentmindedly looking at the people passing through this part of the mall is strangely calming.

What’s not strangely calming is that he’s lived here for more than a month and has not known they even have a mall until today. How did he miss that? It’s a big one, too, with two stories and a basement, enough stores for anyone to find something they like, and quite a big amount of visitors. Even if he’s never been here, he would have thought someone else would have mentioned it.

Either way he’s here now, and a bit overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things to see. He’s not exactly _broke_ , but he definitely won’t be able to afford too much, and if he gets caught up in looking he’s either going to get sad about what he can’t buy or make some decisions he’ll regret.

So for now, he’ll just sit here until he finished the slush.

There’s a woman with a small child that’s carrying a teddy bear almost as big as itself, and a man in a McDonald’s uniform holding a Burger King bag, and a girl who’s just turning away from the window of an accessory shop – and the face he sees now is a familiar one, bespectacled and undeniably beautiful, with long black hair and a mole by her mouth.

Shimizu is here?

She seems to notice him just as he notices her, nodding at him in greeting before coming his way with graceful steps. If Terushima or Mai were with him, they’d pass out right about now.

“Akaashi,” she says with something vaguely resembling a smile. “It’s good I’m seeing you here, I wanted to talk to you but you left before I had a chance.”

“Hello, Shimizu-san, and sorry,” he answers and shifts in his seat a bit. She wanted to talk to him? She should have just come by during break.

She points at the free spot next to him and he nods, so she sits down. He notices she’s not carrying any bags, so she’s probably just here to look around – she likely wasn’t searching for him, since he’s never come here before, and she didn’t send him a text, either.

They sit in awkward silence for a while until Keiji clears his throat and asks, “So, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?”

He can only assume it’s about Bokuto, a topic that he … Doesn’t want to think about, to be completely honest. He’s been drowning out his thoughts of him and what happened at the gig ever since it occurred, and Shimizu was the one who asked him to come, too, so—

“Do you know Nametsu’s schedule?”

What?

“Uh,” he starts, blinking. Mai? What does Mai have to do with any of this? Mai wasn’t even at the concert. Unless she’s not talking about the concert, but about something else completely. Thinking about it, that’s probably more likely. “I could … Ask her for it. Why?”

Shimizu looks down at her hands folded in her lap. “I saw her talking to Hana a few days ago, and apparently she asked if she can help with the choreographing. But Hana is very busy and they didn’t plan anything back then, so she asked me to work it out with her.”

That makes sense, but still. “Sure, I could tell her. But why wouldn’t you just ask Mai herself?”

“She’s …” Shimizu sighs. “Difficult to talk to.”

Uhm, again, what? Mai? Difficult to talk to? Are they talking about different Nametsu Mais? Because if there’s one thing Keiji wouldn’t call Mai, it’s ‘difficult to talk to’. If anything, she’s easy to approach.

Shimizu seems to notice his confusion, because she quickly raises her hands in defence. “I don’t mean she’s a bad person! I think we could get along, actually. It’s a problem with me, not her.”

“Alright then, I’ll talk to her,” he says. It’s clear she doesn’t want to elaborate, and with how quiet she usually is, it feels like a miracle they’re holding a conversation in the first place. “Is there anything else I should say?”

She’s quiet for a moment, gazing at the store in front of them, then adjusts her glasses before looking back at him. “No, not to Nametsu. But maybe you should try to talk to Koutarou.”

And there it is. He somehow knew he wouldn’t get out of this without mentioning it.

“He used to talk a lot about you, up until recently. I always though the two of you were really good friends, that’s what he said, too. But lately, I feel like he’s avoiding the topic of you. I don’t know why, but I think he feels like he’s losing your friendship.”

That’s exactly what it’s like.

“I know I should make more of an effort.” He’s more thinking out loud than anything, saying everything that comes to his mind, because it’s the first time in a while he’s truly thinking about it. Maybe talking it out with Shimizu will help. “You’re right, we were good friends. Best friends. We used to perform together, too. When I got accepted to Karasuno, I was happy to see him again, but with choir and school and getting closer to Terushima and Mai, I think it’s my fault. I’ve been neglecting our friendship.”

Bokuto always required attention, and back in high school, Keiji didn’t mind giving it to him. He didn’t exhaust him like most other people because his energy is contagious, and he never had that many friends to begin with so they saw each other much more often. But now, his schedule is packed and he’s glad when he’s alone without having to socialise, and when he does, it’s mostly with his new friends from choir.

He doesn’t want to lose his best friend, but at this rate, he will. Even getting acquainted to Oikawa didn’t help like he originally assumed.

And he’s not even properly thinking about it.

God, he can be a terrible person sometimes.

“Do you feel good about it?” Shimizu asks and he immediately frowns.

“Of course not. I want to change it.”

“Then you should,” she says and something starts buzzing. She takes out her phone and flinches a bit. “I have to go. See you, Akaashi.”

“See you,” he murmurs.

Shimizu stands up and takes a step away, but then turns around one last time and gives him a look that he can’t quite read. “But if you think Koutarou is holding you back, you should say that too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was only a matter of time until Ushiwaka showed up. I love Ushiwaka with all my heart and I could talk about him for hours on end ... but writing him is actually pretty difficult because I've never really done it, even though I feel like I've got his character down pat ... it's not always easy to translate that into fics, huh.


	11. Extende ad Astra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes, the Cheese ... I meant it when I tagged that
> 
> this chapter basically wrote itself and that is probably because most of it is Akaoi, and Akaoi always writes itself. that's also why it's fast. I'd apologise but why would I apologise for fast updates?
> 
> somehow it feels shorter than it actually is (which is to say, it feels like one of the shortest chapters while it's actually one of the longest, most are around 4k-4k5 while this one is 5k), but that might just be because I wrote it so quickly? what do I know, I'm just a clueless author. ;w;
> 
> there's exactly one reason for all the star symbolisms in the songs, this fic, and especially this chapter: _I FUCKING LOVE SPACE_
> 
> the title means "reach for the stars" in Latin and mostly exists because I wanted at least one Latin title. one day I'll write a fic with only Latin title. and lots of Latin in the fic. because I love Latin. a lot. it was one of my best subjects in school (easily my best in terms of participation) and the language is just so beautiful and aaaaaa;;;;; also while it's not mentioned in the chapter, the song that Oikawa is humming to? that's Extende ad Astra. but since Keiji doesn't know the song, he doesn't know the title, and thus we don't, either. the struggles of being limited to a single narrator ... but I kinda like that, I feel like layering the story is easier when you're only writing it from one or maybe two perspectives. sounds backwards, but ...
> 
> Oshirun is based on my car. the thing is, my car's name is Tooru, and nobody would name their car after themselves. or their little brother in this case. so I gave it the name of one of my OCs ... and all of the (mostly only mentioned by name lbr) OCs in this story are from my fanteams. Oshirun is too. because I have so many fanteams that they are wonderful placeholders.

_If you think Koutarou is holding you back, you should say that too._

If Shimizu hadn’t said that, Keiji might have already texted him.

But those words are still repeating in his mind over and over again, even two days later, while he’s sitting in the library by a window, reviewing his notes to be prepared for tomorrow.

What did she mean? He thinks he gets the general gist of what she was trying to say, that maybe he shouldn’t make their friendship about what used to be, but rather what is. He’s changed since then, and so has his focus in life. Friends come and go, and it’s always painful to see it. He certainly doesn’t want for that to happen, but if he tries to go and make things just like how they were, it won’t be good for either of them.

Of course, all of this would be much easier to digest if he had any idea what Bokuto is up to.

As of now, his phone is sitting next to him on the table, taunting him, and he can’t focus on his material because once again, thoughts of other things are clouding his mind.

“Mind if I sit here?”

He wouldn’t even have to look up to know the owner of the voice. Oikawa is pointing at the chair across from him, and a quick glance around the library reveals why – most tables are taken. If Keiji were him, he’d look for someone familiar as well. Then again, he still feels like Oikawa knows almost everyone, so maybe he just spotted him randomly.

“No problem,” he mutters, keeping his voice low. The noise level in the library is higher than usual, but it’s still a library.

Oikawa gives him a half-hearted smile as he sits down and adjusts his glasses – wait, glasses?

For the first time, he’s really looking at him, and indeed, there’s thick-rimmed black glasses sitting on his nose. It’s unusual, but they look good on him. Really good. Although he does look much more like your cliché straight-A student now, the kind that gets all sorts of scholarships and never gets below 95% on a test, like he jumped straight out of a movie. The white shirt and beige vest don’t help. What is he trying to look like, a high school student?

He’s making it work, though, and the whole outfit has a soft look to it, paired with his brown hair and eyes. It’s warm and welcoming.

Keiji’s confused gaze must not have gone unnoticed, as Oikawa laughs quietly. “Should I interpret that as you checking me out or losing faith in all humanity?”

“You wear contacts?” he asks to dodge the question – if he’s being honest, his thought process was more of the former, although that might be accounted for by the fact he’s already lost his faith in all humanity years ago.

“Nope. I can see just fine, but I tend to get headaches when I stare at smalls letters for too long …”

Do glasses really help with that? He assumes so, but he’s a musician, not an optician. Ends similarly, but isn’t the same thing.

“You like them?” His lips are twisted in a teasing smile and he cocks his head, staring at him with an expression that tells Keiji that he clearly knows what he’s doing.

Should he consider this flirting or his he just trying to drive him into a corner? Semi’s words at the bus station come to mind again, and he has to look away to keep from blushing. Damn it, he’s too easily fazed by this.

“If they help, I suppose that’s a good thing.” It’s not a lie.

Oikawa snorts, but says nothing else, so he can finally try and concentrate on his work again, not that he ever managed to do that in the first place.

He reads the text he worked out with Mai over and over again but nothing sticks. It’s like he’s seeing the words but not actually registering them, something that reminds him of history back in high school. It’s always history that he can’t get motivated for, isn’t it?

At least texting Bokuto is now out of the question and if he’s being honest, he’s glad to have an excuse. If that makes him a terrible friend … Which it probably does … At least he’s being consistent?

Keiji sighs and stretches. Will he get anything done today?

“Not going well, huh?” Oikawa asks and he holds back yet another sigh.

“You could say so. I can’t concentrate at all.”

“Are you still thinking about the concert and Bo-kun?”

Dang it. He’s so easy to read.

“Does it matter?” he asks because he really doesn’t want to talk about it right now, just think about it by himself and figure out some solution that works for him without people butting in. He feels like he deserves that.

Or maybe he’s just running away.

“I can’t tell you that,” Oikawa says in that annoying voice that indicates he’s being all serious and mature again. He finds he can handle upbeat, pouty Oikawa much better. “You’re good at pushing your problems away, aren’t you?”

“Funny you’d say that, considering I’m failing spectacularly right now.” If he really was all that good, he wouldn’t have to think about it.

There’s a humming sound that might be from Oikawa but who knows, it might be something else, you can’t really tell in here. “I can see that. Say …” He taps his pen on the table, once, twice, three times, then swirls it around in his hand before continuing. “Are you free this evening?”

He … What?

He abruptly raises his head to stare at him even more confusedly than before, struggling to find the right words to say. What’s happening? This doesn’t have anything to do with Bokuto. This just sounds like he’s being asked out on a date—

“I’ve been thinking about what we said last time at choir, about your _Spica_ duet. There’s something I want to show you that I think could help.”

Keiji breathes out slowly, his heartbeat slowing to a more normal pace. Of course it would be about choir. “I have time, yes, but I’ll need to ask Mai—”

“Oh, Mai-chan doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Oikawa interrupts him quickly. “I mean, I guess she does, but it’s not important. The less people around, the better, so it’s just you and me.”

Okay, that doesn’t make it sound much better, and he’s definitely blushing now. What is Oikawa trying to do? And how could anything help him with a duet part if his duet _partner_ isn’t there? It sounds highly counterproductive.

Oikawa winks. “Just trust me on this one.”

“I wouldn’t trust you on anything,” he deadpans and raises an eyebrow. “What is it that you want to show me that Mai can’t be there for?”

“I can’t tell you, or it would ruin the surprise.” Keiji half expects a pout but he still looks dead serious. “I’m not even completely sure if it’s going to work, but it definitely won’t if you’re expecting it.”

Should he be scared? He feels like he should be scared.

“When would that be?” he asks instead, still wary.

“Hm …” Oikawa taps the end of his pen to his lips, and now he really does look like the cliché image of a student. “Around … Eight? If we meet at the school entrance it should be a good time.”

That’s hardly ‘this evening’ anymore. Depending on where they go, it could get late, and school starts tomorrow, so he can’t afford to be tired.

But he doesn’t want to decline either, especially not now that he’s curious what Oikawa is even talking about. He’ll just have to leave when it gets too late.

“Alright,” Keiji says, and he wonders just what he got himself into.

 

* * *

 

It’s 7:43PM, he’s way too early, and he still hasn’t talked to Bokuto.

To Keiji’s defence, if he had texted or, god forbid, called him just for their conversation to be cut short by his plans with Oikawa (or rather Oikawa’s plans with him), that would have been very unfortunate and probably made things worse.

That’s what he’s telling himself, anyway.

He can only hope he won’t run into him while he’s waiting at the entrance, absentmindedly scrolling through his Twitter feed without really registering what he’s looking at. He debated going to the choir room for the time being but that one’s probably closed, and also a good five minutes away from here, so by the time he’d get there, he’d already have to leave again much too soon.

The school office is by the entrance, and a tiny convenience store you can never get anything in because they’re usually sold out. Aside from that, not much is going on here, there’s not even a bench to sit down on, so he’s leaning against the building, waiting for Oikawa to show up.

Considering he’s almost twenty minutes early, that is probably going to take a while, but he prefers being early rather than being late. Unpunctuality is something that has always annoyed him, but he seems to be talented at befriending people who don’t know how to be on time. Maybe, just maybe Oikawa will be different. A guy can dream.

At least his boredom at waiting helps to ease his nervousness a bit. He still has no idea where they’ll go, and despite the whole thing being about choir, he can’t shake the feeling that this whole set-up sounds a lot like a date.

Then again, there’s no real reason for someone like Oikawa to even want to date him. Being friends is one thing, but he can’t help but feel like he deserves someone a little more … Outgoing. Perhaps not quite as loud as Terushima or Bokuto, but nobody like Keiji – he’d definitely grow bored with him.

Besides, he’s nowhere near Oikawa’s league.

If this really was a date, he should have dressed up, too … Not that he really has anything he wouldn’t usually wear. The more he looks at the array of clothes currently in his closet, the more he realises he does have to go shopping. Maybe take Mai, she’s usually well-dressed and he trusts her taste in fashion far more than Terushima’s.

But it’s not a date, so it doesn’t matter and his only sweater suited for this weather will have to do. It’s not cold, but also not quite warm, either, still not warm enough for May, that much is certain, so he didn’t have much of a choice.

(Also there’s an owl on this sweater. He’ll take any excuse to wear something with an owl on it.)

“You’re fifteen minutes early,” someone calls and when he looks up, Oikawa is strolling toward him with a smile.

“And you aren’t?” Thankfully, he does seem to be on the punctual side. Or, well, overly punctual. There are worse problems.

“I’m never early, the world is just late.” Keiji debates rolling his eyes but settles for just staring at him with the most disappointed look he can manage. Oikawa doesn’t seem to care. “Cute.”

“The sweater?”

“You.”

It sounds almost like a challenge, but by god, he won’t have the energy to keep that up for the whole evening, so he dismisses it. He’s probably only trying to rile him up anyway, and quite honestly, Keiji can’t even think of a retort.

“If we’re both here, we can go,” he says instead. “If it gets too late, I’ll leave, and so should you. There’s school tomorrow.”

Oikawa mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “mom friend” before gesticulating for Keiji to follow him.

Unsurprisingly, he’s being led away from campus into the direction of the parking block. Personally he’s never bothered to get a license, as traffic back in Tokyo was terrible and he was much better off just taking the train instead of stressing over it every day, and even here there’s many free spots left, as if most people at Karasuno thought similarly. He knows that two levels are reserved for buses, and then the rest is supposed to be for the students who live in the dorms rather than visitors and those with apartments. Maybe that’s why it’s so empty.

Despite knowing he’s going to come anyway, he asks, “And why exactly should I trust you enough to let you drive me?”

“Uhm, excuse me, I’m an excellent driver, thank you very much,” Oikawa shoots back, swirling his keys around. “And what evil intentions could I possibly have?”

“You tell me.”

“I’m too good of a person to even think of any!”

“A good person, alright,” Keiji deadpans. While he wouldn’t consider Oikawa a _bad_ person, if there’s one thing he’s convinced of is that he could be very evil if he wanted to be. Their first encounter after the auditions hasn’t slipped his mind yet.

He should probably think about that more though, and wonder how the hell they ended up here then, because nothing has really changed, has it? Keiji never did anything to gain Oikawa’s affection, and aside from the cardigan thing, the same goes vice-versa.

And, fine, he did also kind of save him at the concert. And got dinner with Semi and him. And he does seem to care about him, but once again: _why_?

The fragility in their relationship he felt outside of the hotel is palpable right now, too. It’s like he knows that if he does something wrong, they’ll go back to ignoring each other.

“Are you going to go in or …” Oikawa says, holding open the car door. It’s a relatively small one, a blue Hyundai with some duct tape to secure one of the lights, but otherwise it seems safe. The car, at least. “Oshirun won’t kill you, you know.”

“Oshirun?” What is an Oshirun? Is that the name he gave his car? Why would you name your car?

“Oshirun,” Oikawa repeats, patting the car’s bonnet. “Well, actually his name is Oshiro Haruki, but I call him Oshirun. It’s much cuter anyway. He used to belong to my sister, so I had no say in the name, but I did what I could.”

It’s not just a name, it’s a full name. With a nickname. This car is named Oshiro “Oshirun” Haruki. Which dimension has he landed in?

“Don’t look at me like that!” Then, quieter, turned to the car, “Don’t listen to him, Oshirun. You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

No sane person would sit down in this car.

Akaashi Keiji, as it turns out, might not be a sane person after all.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa didn’t lie when he said he’s an excellent driver. Well, _excellent_ might be pushing it a bit, but at least he obeys the rules and doesn’t rage at others who don’t.

There’s not many people around on the road they’re taking, out of the city while the sun is setting outside, and the radio is quietly humming in the background.

It’s nice.

It would, however, be significantly nicer if Oikawa could finally tell him where they’re going, instead of keeping up that knowing smile and silence that is answer enough. Is the element of surprise really this important?

They don’t try to make conversation, but it’s not uncomfortable, and Keiji feels safer when the other is focused on the road anyway.

After a while, Oikawa is humming along to a song and it takes him a moment to recognise it as one of those he saw in a video of the girls’ choir on the website. He doesn’t know much of it, so he keeps quiet instead of joining in, settling for listening to the soft voice.

He could fall asleep to that voice, but at the same time he thinks he might be too captivated to actually stop listening and start sleeping. Like a child being read a bedtime story, then asking for another one because it got so invested. His mother often says he used to be that child, so it seems plausible.

They’ve been driving for about twenty minutes when Oikawa seems to be slowing down, maneuvering the car to a small parking lot behind a rather nondescript, but fairly big building.

“There we are,” he says and turns off the engine.

They’re far off the city, that’s for sure, and there is something here at least if he means the building, but is that all there is to it? Keiji raises an eyebrow at him and Oikawa snorts.

“Don’t look at me like that when you haven’t even seen it.”

“What is ‘it’ then?” He knows he’s not going to tell him, but maybe, just maybe …

“We’re almost there, no need to tell you now.” Dang it.

The air is even colder here, especially now that the sun has almost set and it’s getting a lot darker quickly. Maybe he should have taken a jacket, but the walk to the door of the building – a big wooden one that looks heavy, with a sign above it so worn it’s unreadable – is a short one, and he hopes it’s going to be warmer on the inside.

He exchanges glances with Oikawa and receives a nod, and he pushes open the door.

The first thing he sees is a night sky.

Keiji takes a step inside, and then another, gazing up at the myriad of stars shining above them, and for a second thinks that they shouldn’t be able to see this, doesn’t this place have a roof, until it hits him that the sky is the roof.

“A planetarium,” he whispers, his words echoing through the empty hall, seats lined up around a technical looking centre that creates this sky, beautiful and real. “I didn’t know we had one.”

A shooting star glimmers just above them and he can’t help a breathy laugh. He’s never been to a planetarium, and while the stars shine brightly at his aunt’s place he used to visit, he’s never seen them quite like this.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? They put on shows during the day, but in the evening and night anyone can come and visit like this. Most people don’t know about it though.” Oikawa’s voice is quiet, but loud enough, hardly any sound there to disturb it. It suits this place, that voice.

He walks around, mesmerised, and almost bumps into a seat more than once but laughs it off. Oikawa is right – this is beautiful, even if it’s artificial, it still feels like the universe is right there for him to touch, and when he raises his hand to reach out for it, it’s almost like he can.

Keiji likes the stars, always has. He was what people would call a ‘space child’, one book about it in particular he’d read and reread over and over again, and he can still appreciate it. Space is fascinating, vast, and deadly. He understands why people get so obsessed with it they devote their life to studying it, even if personally, he’s grown out of it, if that’s even possible.

Looking at it like this, he feels that connection again, that familiar tug in his heart, similar to how he feels when he sees a beautiful instrument just begging to be played on, or hears a voice so wonderful he can’t help but come closer and listen.

Somehow, he understands why Oikawa has brought him here.

_The road they’ve gone, hands linked / in fate, bound by duty / calls to lead them astray to the lights / of one million suns in the sky._

“Spica,” Oikawa murmurs, closer than he thought. “The brightest star in the constellation of Virgo.”

So that’s where the star motive came from. Keiji had no idea.

“What’s it about?”

“Star-crossed lovers,” he answers immediately, only realising what he said when it has left his mouth already. “It really is big on the star motive, huh. Stars and being confusing.”

“The stars are confusing,” Oikawa argues with a smile. “That’s what makes them so great.”

He really likes them, doesn’t he? It reminds Keiji of what he said at the practice camp, when they met on the terrace. The night sky was beautiful then, too.

“You’d be more suited for the duet,” he says and means it.

Oikawa cocks his head, gazes up at the sky. “That would be the easy way out. Nekomata doesn’t just give parts to the people who appear to most suit something, or who are objectively better. He’s hard to take seriously sometimes, but he knows what he’s doing. I think you and Mai-chan are the perfect choices, if only because he picked you.” He blinks, narrows his eyes, then speaks again. “That doesn’t mean I’m not jealous though. It’s my favourite song of ours and I didn’t get a solo at all yet … Maybe for the competition songs I will …”

“Or maybe you’ll sit this one out,” Keiji mumbles, half joking. It would be a waste, but also very funny to see.

“Inconceivable!”

“Did you really just say ‘inconceivable’?” Perhaps the nerd glasses suited his personality after all.

“It’s a nice word. More people should use it.”

Keiji rolls his eyes, but can’t help but smile, and they stroll through the room a bit longer, Oikawa occasionally pointing out constellations and bright stars, some of which turn out to be planets. Eventually they sit down on two of the seats, and somehow, the view never gets old, even if it’s always the same, moving so slowly he hardly even notices.

“I should look into the meaning of the song,” he says, more to himself. He hasn’t paid any attention to it so far. It’s easier for simple, straightforward ballads, but if the lyrics resemble a poem he’d analyse in literature class more than your usual pop song, he often doesn’t bother, even though he tends to like them more.

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Oikawa responds though. “I mean, yes, you should know what you’re singing about, but don’t you dare go into overthinking mode. What are you feeling right now?” He immediately holds a finger to Keiji’s lips before he can even question what he _is_ feeling. “Don’t answer that. Don’t try to put it into words. Just feel it and next time you sing, think back to it.”

It sounds so ridiculously cheesy, but somehow, he understands. He only hopes he can put it to work – it’s always easier said than done.

“I don’t understand why you’re helping me,” he says instead. There are many things he doesn’t understand.

Oikawa looks downright offended. “Why am I helping you? We’re on the same choir, you have a duet part, and I want us to sound good. It’s not like we’re on opposing teams or anything. Why would I _not_ be helping you?”

Right. He has a point. It seems strange to Keiji, but he might have been looking at it all wrong – of course he’d want them to be the best they can be.

Part of him is a little disappointed, though. He isn’t sure if he wanted that to be the answer.

“Besides …” He waits for a good half minute, but the sentence doesn’t get finished.

“Besides what?”

Oikawa sighs, a somewhat bitter smile playing on his lips. “You remind me of someone, so I can’t help but be attached. It’s kind of annoying, really.”

 _Annoying._ That’s what he said back then too, at the second rehearsal. “If it’s so annoying, why bother?”

“Not doing anything would be even more annoying.”

Maybe Oikawa is just an easily annoyed person.

He decides to let it rest for now, and their conversation switches back to space, and when they leave it’s way past 10 and they drive back home in silence, only singing along to some songs playing on the radio from time to time.

 

* * *

 

Miracles and magic do exist. There is no other reason for Terushima Yuuji to be alone in the choir room, setting up the chairs all on his own while whistling _Whistle While you Work_ from Disney’s _Snow White_. There is simply no natural explanation for such a phenomenon.

When he spots Keiji standing in the doorframe, gaping at him with furrowed eyebrows and the distinct feeling that something is very, very wrong, he waves and sings “Hello, ‘kaash, good to see you!” in tune.

Keiji blinks, once, twice, then rubs his eyes, but when he opens them again everything is still the same as before.

He’s not tired, he actually got a good amount of sleep, and everything today has been fairly normal, so why is it that this, this right here, is happening right before his eyes?

He opens his mouth and closes it again, unsure of what to say.

Someone taps his shoulder and he absentmindedly steps aside to make space, still staring at the scene in front of him. Suddenly, the person that has entered also comes to an abrupt halt, and he recognises Sawamura’s voice asking him, “Is that Terushima setting up the room?”

“I … Think so,” he answers, because he can’t be completely certain. Maybe it’s not Terushima. Maybe it’s someone pretending to be Terushima. Maybe he has a twin. Or a doppelgänger. Or this is a fata morgana.

It’s only when this … Person? Thing? Being? In front of them has finished and dropped down onto his usual seat, phone in hand, that he thinks he might regain his sanity eventually.

It is also now that he remembers Kuroo and how he was searching for Sawamura. That was a few days ago so it’s probably irrelevant now, but he still wants to know. “Have you talked to Kuroo-san? He was looking for you on Friday. I didn’t get to tell you at practice.”

“Kuroo? Do you mean about the room switch?”

“I don’t know what it was about,” he says, and he has never heard about a room switch. As far as he knows, Sawamura doesn’t live in the student dorms, so maybe live at the same apartment and that’s what it’s about? Or it’s a school thing, possibly for practice or those electives Kuroo is taking. “But it seemed pretty urgent.”

“I see … He saw me on Saturday, so that must have been it or I would have heard about it.” He sets his bag on his chair in the bass section. “Maybe you’ve heard about that, there are some people from the national orchestra currently in town and we had to switch some rooms around so that they could practice. Kuroo is on the student council, but he asked me for help with some of the paperwork.”

National orchestra? Could that be why Ushijima was here? And wait, Kuroo on the student council? That guy is playing in a band, taking special electives, surely has tons to do with class, _and_ works for the student council. Incredible.

“The national orchestra is here?!” someone shouts and Mai comes running toward them, eyes wide. “Oh my god, I need to tell Shira-kun!”

The name sounds familiar, she dropped it sometime, Keiji is fairly certain ‘Shira-kun’ is someone from her vocal lessons group, but he doesn’t know him personally.

“Not all of them, but a few. I know Ushijima is, though.”

So he’s right – Ushijima plays for the national orchestra. Now it makes sense why he’s so good, and why he was at Karasuno practicing. That still doesn’t explain why Oikawa dislikes him so much, but it’s a start.

Mai is murmuring to herself as they go to Keiji’s seat, and when he sits down, she stays up, stroking her chin. “That’s a major chance, he can’t let this one pass, especially if Ushijima is here, maybe the conductor is as well, or the manager …”

“What’s she talking about?” Terushima asks, and Keiji shakes his head.

“National orchestra, but you’ll have to ask her about the rest.”

“Speaking about asking people about the rest!” Mai pipes up, her head snapping up so fast he worries for her health. “Was that Oikawa-san I saw you with yesterday?”

Oh, great, she saw them. Since she lives in the student dorms, that’s not all too surprising, but if she did, other people might have, too – including Bokuto, who he still hasn’t talked to but promised himself he will, tomorrow, during lunch break, in person. Normally that would be no reason to be afraid, but if Bokuto did indeed see them, that means he didn’t come up to talk to them, like he would in any given situation because that’s just what Bokuto does, and if he doesn’t, something is wrong.

Of course, it’s much more likely he didn’t see them at all.

“Probably,” Keiji says a bit too late. “Depends on when.”

“Around eight, I think you were walking in the direction of the parking block.”

“Yes, then.”

For some reason, it’s a bit hard to admit. It’s not a crime to be walking to a parking block with someone, and yet …

“What were you doing there?” She sounds like she’s holding a questioning, staring down at him, though admittedly not that far down since Mai is not tall in the slightest.

“Yes, what were you doing there?” Terushima joins in, copying her tone of voice almost perfectly.

Why do they even care? “We went to the planetarium. Or, well, he took me. Why does it matter?”

“A planetarium date,” Terushima whispers.

“That’s …” Exactly what it sounds like. But. “I know it sounds weird but it was for choir. To help me with our duet.”

“Sure, because that would help you,” Mai says with a raised eyebrow and more than a pinch of sarcasm in her voice. He has a feeling that even if he told her it really did, she wouldn’t believe him. “And going on your own? For a _duet_?”

Something about her tone bothers him, and his answer comes out a bit harsher than intended. “Even if it wasn’t, why does it matter? I can spend time with people without your approval.”

She flinches but quickly catches herself, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just …”

Jealous? No, that’s not what it sounds like. Concerned, perhaps.

Does she not trust Oikawa? But why would she not? He’s never done anything to her, and while he hasn’t seen them talk, they seem to at least get along. Is there something he’s missing?

“No, I’m sorry, that was harsh,” he admits. He doesn’t believe she wishes him any harm. “It really helped, though. I hope. We’ll see today if we get to the part.”

Her face lights up a little and she nods. “I sure hope so! We’re going to be awesome, so let’s forget this and give it our all.”

When Mai strolls to her own seat near the wall though, he feels like there are a lot of things left unsaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd tell Akaashi to stop looking for excuses not to talk to Bokuto but I feel like I have no right to talk, because it's exactly what I would do. don't be like me.


	12. #showtime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know, writing this chapter has made me realise once again how different fanfic is from books. in a book, this chapter wouldn't bug me at all, I'd just read on. in a fanfic, it fucking annoys me because nothing much happens but it's the newest thing out there so it's what I have to make do with until I finish the next one. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh;;;
> 
> I hope you can forgive me for that rip ... idk if it's technically a /bad/ chapter I just feel like it's super slow. granted, that was by design, but does it really work? I jUST DON'T KNOW ;A;
> 
> that's such a cheerful title for a not so cheerful chapter ... the last few have been less light-hearted actually, but we will get back to that eventually, don't worry. unless you came for the other stuff. in which case, I don't know what to tell you but there's gonna be some more I suppose? I constantly forget I don't plan this until I write these notes and realise I have no idea what I'm talking about
> 
> you have Rainbow Circus (https://soundcloud.com/kean-tan-306809646/02-rainbow-circus) to thank for #showtime. but #showtime is subtler with the Circus motives, which, considering it doesn't have a "Circus" in its title, kinda makes sense. (also let me use this opportunity to proclaim that Yuzuru is best boy. Hajime's ... secondary best? I feel bad calling him second best I love my son)
> 
> updated list of song titles I regret: Farewell Fall (still mad at myself for blowing the opportunity to ever use "Farewell Fair" in this fic), HEART↑BEAT (I alwAYS HAVE TO COPY THAT AND IT'S SO ANNOY IN G)

Nekomata doesn’t even get the chance to say anything before Terushima’s hand shoots up into the air with the speed of your average racing car. The sounds he’s making to it, similar to that one person in school who’d raise their hand for everything and get offended when they weren’t taken, don’t really help his case, and thus, he looks like a complete idiot.

An idiot with enthusiasm for five and hardly contained energy, though. Keiji is surprised he isn’t jumping yet.

“Uhm,” Nekomata starts, clearly taken aback. “Yes, Terushima?”

“I made a song!” he blurts out as if it took him the discipline of a lifetime to hold it back. “Kinda like _HEART_ _↑_ _BEAT_ , but even cooler! For the competition!”

It takes a moment for him to understand, except he still doesn’t understand at all. Terushima isn’t a composer, that’s why he wanted them to work together for their song that never happened. But if he says that ‘he’ made a song, does he mean he made it with someone else or has he really done it on his own? Either way, that’s actually amazing.

“You know, because like, _HEART_ _↑_ _BEAT_ is so happy and upbeat, right? But most of our songs aren’t like that so I thought, ‘Hey, we’ll want the songs in the competition to match, right?’ And I went searching for a song but I didn’t find what I had in mind so I kinda made one myself. I just had Yahaba help me out with the instrumental but most of it was done myself.”

Yahaba must be a friend Keiji has never heard about, and it makes sense someone would have helped Terushima, but … This is the first time he heard about this.

Just how fast is he?

Someone shifts near them and when he looks, he sees Oikawa staring at Terushima with the most unbelieving expression he has ever seen on him, eyebrows furrowed, but eyes comically wide, gaping like he just told him he was actually the prince of a long-lost dinosaur kingdom and has to go back in time to save his kind.

“That’s great,” Nekomata says, not even the slightest bit annoyed at any of this. Keiji probably would have been – at least let him do the introductions, damn it. “Can you show us?”

“Sure!” Terushima immediately jumps out of his seat and hurries to the front, something in his hand that looks like a USB stick as he heads for the music player they’ve never once used so far.

While he’s trying to figure out how it works, Oikawa slips into his seat, tapping Keiji’s shoulder. “Do you know how he got Yahaba to help him?”

“I don’t even know who Yahaba is,” he mutters back. “Should I?”

“He was my kouhai in high school and I’ve never ever seen him help anyone with music, ever. Everything else, sure, but he’s super prickly about composing and playing.”

That Yahaba person sounds like he belongs right at Karasuno, and it’s interesting to note that he’s Oikawa’s kouhai, but … “Maybe he just had a good day.”

“Sounds …”

“Inconceivable?”

“Exactly.”

Their conversation is cut short by the music setting in with a blast – a far too loud blast, in fact, and so sudden it feels almost louder than Bokuto’s band, and he jumps in his seat when it sets in, bumping into Oikawa and almost falling out of it.

“Careful there,” Oikawa says, or so he thinks because he’s not sure what he actually hears, but he’s cringing all the same so it doesn’t have too much effect, and it’s only when some third year from the soprano section dashes to the remote and turns down the volume that his heart rate slows down again. Good god, who set the volume this high?

“Sorry!” Terushima calls over the now much more tolerable music and turns it off. “Let’s do this again.”

Someone shouts, “You should be sorry!” and Keiji has to agree.

When the music starts again, this time at a reasonable volume, he’s surprised to find it’s actually _good_. Very electronic, the kind of thing that DJs would put out, with a heavy bass and a steady rhythm, but the general flow of the song feels a bit like … A circus? It’s definitely there, an accordion and the occasional fanfare, but subtly so – it doesn’t deter from the very modern electro vibe, but gives it a unique identity.

A guitar is playing what he assumes to be the main melody, but there are no lyrics or any vocals at all yet. It might be difficult for the choir to pull off, but he’s all for challenge, and if they do manage it, it could make for really interesting compositions, far different from what they’d usually do.

The piece finishes on a drumbeat and Terushima bows deeply, wide grin spread over his face. Most people are clapping, some fairly furiously, but Keiji is frozen in awe. He did this. Mostly on his own. In two weeks or _less_. Without any former experience he knows of.

What is he, a monster?

“I know where to go with the lyrics, I just gotta make them sound good,” he explains. “Someone wanna help me? I’m bad at that stuff. I have it in my head how we could coordinate it, too, all we gotta do is transcribe it once the lyrics are done. How about it?”

The response from the crowd is undeniably positive, and Nekomata is also nodding with a smie. “Work out the lyrics and we can make this work. Good job, Terushima.”

“Sure thing!” He strolls back to his seat and Keiji swears he’s actually sparkling.

Oikawa quickly switches back for him to sit down again and Terushima sighs contently. “That’s gonna show him.”

Show … Wait a second. This sounds like he wrote and produced an entire, _good_ , song out of … Pure spite.

Of course, he could be wrong, and he sincerely hopes so because spite may be a great motivator, but it surely can’t be _this_ inspiring.

“Show who?” he asks even though he feels like the answer is already clear, considering everything that led up to this moment.

“Futa, duh.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as they’re done warming up and get a short break, Mai immediately runs over to them and places herself in front of Terushima, so that he has no chance to escape even if he wanted to. “Yahaba? Do you mean Yahaba Shigeru?”

Terushima blinks and shares a look with Keiji, both about equally confused. “Uh, yeah. We share some classes. Why, you know him?”

“No,” she says sternly, which doesn’t clear anything up in the slightest. He wants to stand up and leave before something happens but fears for his life, so instead he just watches, trying to seem as invisible as humanly possible. “But Shira-kun does, and Shira-kun doesn’t like him.”

“Oh, Shira as in Shirabu Kenjirou?” Oikawa chimes in, clearly displaying an utter lack of self-preservation drive. “Yup, those two don’t get along. Funny since they’re pretty similar … Both stubborn as all hell though, so that’s probably it.”

Mai sighs and her expression softens a bit. “So I’ve heard. I’m kind of biased, I guess, Shira-kun is my friend … But still, Teru-kun, don’t get caught between them.”

“Why would I?” Terushima argues with a sheepish smile that very much indicates he has a reason to. Keiji’s not sure if he wants to know why.

“I swear, you’re going to be the death of me someday.” She leans forward and ruffles his hair, and he yelps when it’s getting all messed up. Sometimes Keiji is glad he doesn’t do much with his own, or he’d end up like that. It sounds like a bother, and he can be grateful he’s blessed with naturally decent hair. “Your song is great, though … What’s the name?”

Right, what _is_ the name?

“Uuuuuh …” He ponders over it for a second, stroking a non-existent beard. “Show … Show something. Showtime? But like, with a hashtag. _#showtime_. Yeah, that sounds good!”

“You do realise that at a musical school, everyone will read that as a sharp symbol, not a hashtag, right?” Keiji says. Besides, _#showtime_? Is he being serious?

“No, I like that name!” he insists, voice slipping into the ‘stubborn child’ territory. “I’m sure Yahaba will too!”

Oikawa snorts quietly. “Yahaba will tell you it’s ‘fucking stupid’. His words, not mine.”

“Do you like it?” Terushima shouts more than he says it and is looking like he’s close to tears, so Keiji pats his back to make him feel a bit better. It doesn’t seem to help.

“I don’t mind it,” he answers with a shrug. “It suits the song.”

“Then it’s settled! _#showtime_ it is!”

Well, it certainly is a title that screams Terushima, so that has got to count for something.

He’ll have to finally ask him about Futakuchi though, if their … Argument or whatever it was is big enough to spawn a whole song, he doesn’t think he can ignore it, and he is curious. Actually, he’s been meaning to ask someone about it, but forgot about it every time he had the chance, since it hasn’t come up that much lately. Futakuchi isn’t exactly in his closest circle of friends, so him not talking to Terushima isn’t all that unusual, unless it turns into something like it was at the training camp again. He thought that maybe they settled their differences, but it doesn’t seem to be the case after all.

Right now isn’t the right time though, especially when Terushima quickly excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and people stealing his chair looks like it’s going to be a theme today, as Mai lets herself drop onto it.

“Geez, I hope he doesn’t get himself into trouble …”

“What happened?” he asks warily.

She looks around the tenor section, probably to find Futakuchi, and then turns back to him when she believes it’s safe. Quietly, she explains, “You know how Kenji-kun and Teru-kun have that problem right now? Shira-kun’s gotten involved with it, and if Teru-kun rallies Yahaba for his side now …”

“It’s going to escalate,” he finishes and Mai nods solemnly.

“It’s all just petty arguments right now, but who knows what it might turn into … Even if it stays this, it’s annoying enough as it is.”

It’s a strange time to ask, considering they’re in a choir room surrounded by over 40 people, but he has to know. “What is it about anyway?” Mai refused to tell him back at the practice camp, though, so she might do that again.

She checks over her shoulder to see if Oikawa is still nearby, which he isn’t, so she leans forward even more and basically whispers into Keiji’s ear, “They kissed at the Monopoly game and Kenji-kun said Teru-kun’s bad at kissing.”

Honestly? He’s not even surprised.

“So Teru-kun got really offended and he’s still holding a grudge, it seems. I don’t know how serious it is, but …”

Alright, now he gets the situation.

Mai sits back up straight and waves her index finger at him. “Most people know, but nobody talks about it, so don’t you dare tell anyone. _Especially_ anyone who wasn’t at the game.”

The implication is clear, although he doubts Oikawa doesn’t already know. He probably was the first person to hear about it, knowing him.

“Got it,” he says anyway, because he isn’t going to talk about it if there’s a silent agreement nobody should. Sometimes he does wonder what would have happened had he attended the game though – clearly life-changing events go down at team Monopoly.

 

* * *

 

The second they start with _Spica_ , he begins feeling giddy.

Keiji thinks he knows what they were going for at the planetarium yesterday, but how easy will it be to put it into practice? He shouldn’t overthink, that much is clear, but maybe it would have helped actually singing the thing back then, to connect it more thoroughly. He did have it play in his head, and yet …

He sneaks a glance at Oikawa when Terushima is leaning forward to look for something in his bag, and as if he noticed it while looking away, the other quickly makes eye contact, then flashes him an ‘okay’ sign. It doesn’t help.

“Let’s go from the top,” Nekomata says, “and when we’re done once we work on the details.”

That’s nothing unusual, in fact it’s how they usually work, and they’ve been getting better at it, too. Nevertheless, he almost messes up the beginning and only barely catches himself before the lyrics get completely jumbled.

The part he likes the most is the chorus, as the background vocals create a beautiful, five-part harmony slowly led by the piano. The high notes the instrument is playing reminds him of the stars in the planetarium a bit, like that shooting star he saw. They’re bright and clear, and, with the voices singing along, almost ethereal.

He cuts himself off from the vocals shortly before their duet part starts, like they practiced, and, with no choreography to follow, dares to close his eyes and simply listen.

“ _The road they’ve gone, hands linked_ ,” Mai starts in her beautiful alto. He wants to attribute it to some part of the night sky, but can’t quite seem to. Yet, it seems to fit regardless.

“ _Linked in fate, bound by duty_ …” It’s an easy melody, simple to follow, and the mid-high notes always seem to hover in the air a bit longer.

“ _Duty calls to lead them astray to the lights_ …”

“ _Lights of one million suns in the sky._ ” One million suns, possibly more, so close to touch.

“ _Skyward, further, see_ …” He usually dreads this passage, as there’s an annoying skip to a note he wouldn’t personally have put in there, and it always throws him off. He dreads it now, too, but it doesn’t throw him off as much as normal.

“ _See, they reach, slowly_ …” _Nailed it._ If he wasn’t busy singing, he’d allow himself a smug grin.

“ _Slowly touching, falling apart with the lights_ …”

“ _Lights of one million suns in the sky._ ”

Keiji only opens his eyes when the chorus starts again and he falls back into their pattern.

Well, that wasn’t … Terrible? Better than usual, probably. Nowhere near masterful, though …

They’re done sooner than it feels, and Nekomata targets the mezzo sopranos to do the first verse on their own, so everyone else is now standing around with no real purpose, and it works wonders to let him overthink again.

Was the closing his eyes thing overdoing it? The others are probably thinking god knows what, but in that moment, he felt like if he was actually looking at something, he wouldn’t be able to visualise. But it wasn’t about visualising in the first place, was it? It was about feeling, not seeing, that was the whole point, and he thinks he understands it a little bit better now but he still can’t put it to practice …

He may just be a lost cause.

But he can’t think that, it would be like giving up and no way in hell is he going to do that. He joined this damn choir, he’ll do his best at it.

(Keiji wonders, though, just how good ‘his best’ actually is.)

They don’t get to the duet part before break, and likely won’t do it afterward either considering they still have _HEART_ _↑_ _BEAT_ to finally start with, and he kind of hates how relieved he is about it.

Mai gestures for him to follow her outside, though, so he doesn’t quite seem to be done with it just yet.

The air is warm, finally, and the sun is only slowly setting on the horizon, and coupled with how far they came with the song, it feels earlier than it is. Still, he can’t wait to go home – today isn’t his day.

“About the notes I made you,” Mai says, flipping through her sheets. “Didn’t we settle on the staccato?”

“You settled on the staccato, I said I was against it,” he answers and she furrows her eyebrows and looks around a bit disoriented.

After a moment, she slowly says, “Right. That was a thing. I got that mixed up.”

He can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. First her comments on the planetarium … Visit, then the Yahaba thing, and now she’s mixing up their decisions? It’s unlike her. Should he ask? If he does, she might close up, but she’s his friend, and maybe there’s something she needs to talk about, so he should be there for her.

Or maybe he’s judging the situation all wrong and she’s just a bit overwhelmed at the moment, or not having a good day either.

“Anyway,” she starts again before he can settle on what to do. “We should at least be coordinated, but I think that worked pretty well right there. As long as it sounds good … By the way, what do you think about Teru-kun’s song?”

“I like it.” He does. The title, not so much, but everything else is nice, and not even particularly unrefined as one would have thought.

“I love circus themes,” Mai sighs, “I can’t wait to sing this. If only it weren’t for Yahaba and Shira-kun …”

“What is it with those two? Oikawa-san said they didn’t get along, but how bad can it be?” He knows neither of them personally, but Terushima’s reaction upon being confronted with it earlier was far from innocent. Just what did his friend get himself into?

“That’s pretty much it. I don’t know the details, all I know is Shira-kun keeps complaining about Yahaba to me.”

Sounds an awful lot like Ushijima and Oikawa, when he thinks about it. At least from what he could gather from their text conversation.

A propos Ushijima … He wants to ask Sawamura later about the national orchestra, both because he’s very curious and because it’s, well, the national orchestra. If he hadn’t gone for the choir route, he’d lose his mind over this opportunity.

Mai said something similar about Shirabu, so he can only assume he wants to make it in. It’s as good a goal as any, he supposes. Personally, he just wants to survive his first year for now.

He should probably just stay out of that and, despite better judgement, let Terushima fight his own battles, even if he’s afraid of what he might get himself into – or has gotten, already. Can his friend really survive without his supervision?

“Hey, Aka-kun,” Mai says suddenly, and the look in her eyes is strange, unreadable. After a moment, she waves him off though. “Forget it, it wasn’t important.”

They stand around without much purpose until Nekomata calls everyone back inside, and for the first time, their silence feels uncomfortable.

 

* * *

 

“Wow, your mood is through the roof today,” Terushima remarks and snickers. “Did you even notice my awesome solo?”

“We didn’t get to that part,” Keiji says.

“Well, yeah, but you saw it in the sheets! You can imagine how badass it will be.”

He doubts a song as happy-go-lucky as _HEART_ _↑_ _BEAT_ can be considered ‘badass’ in any way, shape, or form – it has a constant _ding, ding_ in the background, for god’s sake – but if it makes him happy, then so be it. Besides, he doesn’t have the energy to banter with him now.

Keiji sighs and lets his head drop against the cool glass window, glancing outside at the passing city scenery. Just let him go to bed and start another, hopefully better, day tomorrow. Although he will have to talk to Bokuto, which is most definitely going to be painful, and he has his history course with Mai … Actually, can he just fast-forward to Wednesday and put all of that behind him?

“Are you free on the weekend, by the way? There’s this carnival that’s super great, and I always go with my friends.”

He heard of that, though briefly and without paying it so much as a second thought. In hindsight, he should have figured he’d get invited.

Quite honestly, he isn’t sure if he really _wants_ to go, but he can’t let this hopefully temporary slump decide over his enjoyments, so he says, “Sure. With Mai and …”

“Sawamura!” Terushima exclaims and the glint in his eyes is telling. Can they go back to him being into Shimizu? Somehow, that one felt less annoying. “I mean, if he says yes, but of course he’ll say yes. And he can bring Tachibana, and Oikawa …”

Oh, right, Oikawa is definitely going. If he joins their little group to-be … He doesn’t know what to feel about it. He thinks he’d like him along, but considering Mai’s reaction earlier, it might stir up unnecessary arguments.

“Maybe Yumi! Not Futakuchi though.”

Half of him wants to say that maybe, possibly, they should just talk about it like responsible adults but first, Mai’s No Telling Anyone rule probably includes Terushima as well, and second, while he’s not sure about Futakuchi, he doubts his friend could ever come anywhere near being a responsible adult. Not that he can blame him, he seems to be having much more fun his way.

“By the waaay …” The way he draws out the last word speaks of no good, and Keiji quickly points to the display board.

“Isn’t this your stop?”

Thankfully, fate is kind to him for once and he’s actually right; cue a panicking Terushima mumbling “shit, it is” and hurrying for the exit before the doors close and the train takes off again.

Almost immediately, though, his phone buzzes.

_dont think u can avoid this forever!!!_

The sigh falling from his lips could have won a world championship of tiredness.

 

* * *

 

The cafeteria door looms before him like the entrance to hell itself, and maybe spending too much time with Terushima has made him overly dramatic, but he can’t help but feel like the temperature has already risen just by looking at it.

Keiji knows for a fact that Bokuto is in there, as he sent him a message earlier. That one didn’t allude to the things he wants to say, most of which he’s written down, several sentences entirely memorised.

_I’m sorry I’m neglecting our friendship. I know I’m hurting you, and I want us to be as close as we used to be again, but it’s been difficult to find the time, and I’ll do anything I can to change that._

He feels like a hypocrite, saying those things after avoiding them for so long.

Bokuto will forgive him, he always does. While occasionally pissed off at people, he seems incapable of truly holding a grudge, and he wants peace above everything else, though not necessarily quiet. Somehow, knowing that makes it feel worse, because it gives him an excuse to screw up again, since it doesn’t truly matter with Bokuto. There’s always another chance.

But if nothing else, he won’t run away anymore. It’s easier said than done, but he’s determined to fix this before it spirals completely out of control. Thinking back to after the gig still stings a little.

He has to do this.

The cafeteria isn’t exactly what he’d call full, but there are enough people around to use most of the tables and lay a blanket of chatter over the room, walking around with tablets or just sitting there talking to their friends. He debates getting something to eat first but his stomach is tight, and he couldn’t swallow something if he tried right now.

Instead, he heads for the table he knows they’re usually sitting at, each one of his steps heavy but too fast, carrying him there all too soon.

Bokuto is in conversation with a tall girl he doesn’t know, with black, fluffy looking hair and an excited smile. Kuroo is there, too, and he thinks he spots Semi somewhere at another table in the back.

“Hello,” he starts weakly and Bokuto’s head snaps upward. Someday that’s going to kill him, good god.

“Akaashi! You came!”

_Well, yes, that’s why I asked you if you’re there._

He doesn’t seem to have any food, which is both good and very uncharacteristic, so Keiji has no excuse not to do this now. “Can we talk? One-on-one.”

Many people would call Bokuto Koutarou an ‘idiot’, and academically, they’d be completely correct. He’s never been the fastest person in this planet and his thought process can be somewhat warped at times. But the emotion flickering over his face right now shows that he knows exactly what this is about, and it’s something Keiji always thought he was better at than him, judging people and the situation well. It’s why he can be so forgiving, in contrast to his own rather cynical and wary approach to interactions.

He thinks it may be easier than expected.

“Uh, yeah, no problem.”

At the same time, though, he’s genuinely afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should rename this "Friendship Angst: The Fic"


	13. Blessed Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that was anticlimactic. provided that's all there is to it ... is it? (well I won't tell you. but considering how much I like to write friendship stuff you can probably already guess.)
> 
> less than a week for a chapter, weEEEEE （ﾉ｡≧◇≦）ﾉ I've got to admit I mostly finished this so fast because I'm hella hyped to write the next one, hehehe. really though, at this point I feel like I have to remind you that you still shOULD NOT GET USED TO THIS I'D FEEL BAD IF I SUDDENLY GOT SLOWER AND PEOPLE EXPECTED MORE;;; I'm honestly not that fast of a writer most of my stuff takes a month or more, but there's something about 3wl ... something ........... (I love writing it that's what that something is)
> 
> the title is one of their choir songs, except it hasn't appeared yet, since there was no insert song this chapter lol. honestly it doesn't even fit all that well but it was between this and Above and I'd rather save the latter for a later chapter. I do know what the next one's gonna be called though! but I won't tell you. because that would be boring. ha. hahaha. I have power
> 
> the festival is based on the easter funfair I go to with my friends and family each year (except this year, because the weather was terrible). it's always loads of fun, and I'm super pumped to write the carnival da-- uh I mean. visit. carnival visit.

He has a plan of this entire conversation in his head, and that plan may or may not have been why he only slept for four hours, but at least it will guide him somewhat. He’s taken into account that he’s talking to Bokuto, too, since it’s very hard to plan around him in the first place, considering he’s not bound by what some would call social rules and lacks a brain-to-mouth filter, causing him to just say whatever is on his mind.

At least, that’s what he’s been like in high school. Maybe that has changed. Keiji wouldn’t know.

It is kind of reassuring that Bokuto’s definition of “one-on-one” has not changed and he has to move them from literally the middle of the cafeteria only a few feet from their table to outside at the back entrance. It’s not the most hidden place, but it’ll have to do.

He scans the area quickly to make sure none of the students hanging out at the benches a bit further down are too close, and then takes a deep breath.

“Sorry!” Bokuto blurts out before he can say anything.

Keiji raises his head to stare at him, blinking, dumbfounded. Why would he apologise? He has nothing to apologise for. What?

“I know I should have invited you back then, but it was a band thing … Sorry for not telling you the truth!”

Okay, he might have given him a bit too much credit.

“That’s not—”

“It’s just, I didn’t want you to feel like I didn’t want you there although I guess I didn’t want you there but I couldn’t just say that.” The words are coming out quickly, so quickly he almost doesn’t follow, and Bokuto looks genuinely hurt, not giving him any chance to interrupt him. “Like, those guys are super important to me, especially Tetsu, he’s like, my best friend.”

 _Best friend._ That title used to be reserved for Keiji.

“Bokuto-san—”

“But you know the thing is, even if I had invited you, you looked like you were having fun with Oikawa and I couldn’t just pull you away but then I would have had to invite Oikawa too and that would have been a lot of people—”

“Bokuto-san, let me _talk_ , for god’s sake.”

Finally his words have some impact and he takes the precious second of silence to supress a sigh and start from where he planned to begin. “I’m the one who has to apologise. We’ve been growing distant, and it’s my fault. I’m neglecting our friendship and …” He stops himself midway – what was he supposed to say there again? All he can remember is what he said, as Bokuto has completely caught him off guard with his own apologies. “I’m sorry,” he finishes lamely.

Bokuto blinks very owlishly. “Oh. You noticed.”

If anyone else had said it, he might have felt offended, but the tone of it is so innocent it leaves him standing there dumbfounded.

“I know you have a lot to do since you joined choir, and you were always together with your other friends, so I thought you didn’t … Need me anymore?” Bokuto continues to astound him, as normally he would have expected him to start crying right about now, but instead he just seems to be scrambling for the right words. “So I tried to … Turn away? To let you be?”

It’s so wise. Sometimes he does say strangely smart things. “I know I hurt you,” Keiji says slowly, regaining the train of thought he planned out bit by bit. “It happened before I even noticed. And then I kept stalling because I was afraid of what you’d say.”

“Ah.”

They stand there in silence and stare at the ground for a long moment, the things they said hanging in the air, until suddenly, Bokuto looks up at him again with narrowed eyes. “This feels really stupid now.”

“It … Kind of does,” he agrees.

More silence, small smiles, and then they both break out into laughter.

How could he have ever been scared of this? Bokuto is his friend for a reason – he wouldn’t just end that because of a dumb mistake on Keiji’s part. If he would, they wouldn’t be friends in the first place, at least not for as long as they have been.

“You know, if Tetsu is my best friend, you’re like … My other best friend. You can have multiple best friends, right?”

Thinking back to Terushima and Mai, Keiji smiles. “Of course you can.”

“So!” Bokuto darts forward to grab his shoulders and stare into his eyes almost maniacally, and everything is alright again. “We’re going to the festival! With the band! Well, if we can get Kenma to go … But you’re coming with us!”

“Uh …” He looks away, feeling a bit guilty. “I … Actually already said I’d go with Terushima and the others.”

“Even better! Let’s all go together!”

They do say the more the merrier, don’t they? He’s afraid of what will happen if Terushima and Bokuto meet, but if it gets too bad he’ll just have to leave. The country.

God, this list is getting longer and longer. Terushima, Mai, Yumi, Bokuto, Kuroo, Kozume (maybe?), Shimizu, Sawamura (oh god, both of them in relatively close proximity to Terushima? This is bound to be a disaster), Yumi, Oikawa …

Quite frankly, he can’t wait.

 

* * *

 

When he lays down on the couch that evening he feels much lighter than before. He didn’t have the chance to talk to Mai earlier, as she arrived late and left early for a doctor’s appointment, but it just feels so good to have the Bokuto thing sorted out.

 _If you think Koutarou is holding you back, you should say that too._ The words are still resounding in his head, but they’ve lost their impact. They reconciled so quickly, it almost doesn’t feel like there ever was a problem in the first place.

But he can’t use that as an excuse to keep neglecting him, as he really wants to be a better friend than he has been.

For now, though, he’s eternally grateful it went down without problems. It seems like all of his fear was for nothing, and Bokuto was right, the whole thing feels a bit stupid now.

There’s a documentary about the national orchestra on TV, but he can’t spot Ushijima anywhere. It’s likely older, but it does make him think about him. They’re good, obviously, and he would have never expected for one of their members to be quite as … Grounded as Ushijima appeared. The people interviewed sound humble, but fundamentally different. Maybe it was only because they didn’t spend much time together, but Ushijima had a different aura around him.

The director is an old man who yells a lot and once again he thinks they can be glad to have Nekomata. Their high school director was also nice, but the manager, Yukie, did all the actual work, since their director had no musical experience and was more of an advisor. She was always bragging about how other choirs don’t even have managers, and that they should be thankful for her presence, and then she’d proceed to guilt them all into giving her their lunch. Keiji got along well with her, but they were never really friends. She was in Bokuto’s class, he thinks, in their third year at least.

While he wouldn’t say he’d want to relive high school, he does miss it sometimes. They had a lot of fun together, in good and in bad times. It was why he was so happy to know at least Bokuto would be here, and why it feels much better to know they’re okay.

His phone buzzes on the table, far longer than it should for a text message, and he sighs. He’s not fond of phone calls, so if this is anyone but his mother, he might pretend he didn’t hear.

One glance at the screen reveals that it is actually Semi calling him. Why would Semi call him? Now he’s intrigued, and while he dreads the idea of calling, he picks up anyway.

“Hello, Semi-san?”

Someone screams in the background on the other end of the line and he flinches. What’s going on there? “Oh, thank god you picked up. I saw you at the cafeteria, but you were gone before I could talk to you.”

“Who are you calling, Semisemi?” the high-pitched male voice in the background asks loudly enough for him to hear.

“Shut it, Satori,” Semi calls back and clears his throat. “Sorry, Tendou …”

Ah, so that is the infamous Tendou person. Sounds like a pain to live with. “No problem. Do you need anything?”

“Yes. A first year I know needs someone to give him piano lessons. I know you probably don’t have much time, but I thought maybe you know someone.”

“Isn’t there a teacher who could help?” They’re at Karasuno, after all.

“Not for free …” Semi’s words trail off into nothing.

For free, huh? Doesn’t sound appealing. He wants to help, but he has enough to do as it is, why pile more work on himself? The only option he would consider is to team up with someone else and split up the work, and even then it will be hard to get someone on board who is okay with no payment.

The only person coming to his mind is Oikawa. He _did_ ask him to teach him the violin, though he’s not sure how serious he was about it. If he meant it, that would mean he’d have the time. It’s worth a try, at least?

“I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything. How soon does he need it?”

Semi hums and Tendou is cackling in the background. What’s so funny? After a moment, he says, “Right, uh … He said he should be able to play simple songs by August.”

“What is his definition of ‘simple’?” Keiji asks warily. Considering the level they’re at, it might be too much to make it work in the first place.

“No idea. I can give you his number so you can ask him.”

“Alright. I’ll get back to you then.”

“Thanks. Bye!”

“Goodbye,” he mutters and shortly after they’ve hung up, Semi sends him a message with the number.

A few seconds later, a second one arrives. _His names shirabu kenjirou._

Keiji stares at the screen for a good half minute, trying to process what the hell he just read.

Shirabu Kenjirou. The Shirabu that Mai is friends with. The one with the conflict that Terushima is possibly somehow roped up in.

He’ll call him … Later, for now he’s too in awe over this coincidence to trust his ability to communicate like a proper human being.

Life sure has a sense for irony.

 

* * *

 

“What is he doing here?!” Terushima yells loudly enough for the entire festival to hear.

“Yeah, what is he doing here?” Futakuchi asks Mai next to him in return. His friend only gives him a knowing smile, then hurries over to Keiji and pulls him down by the collar of his shirt (the only really nice one he owns, a leftover from his school uniform) to whisper in his ear.

“We’re ditching those two as soon as possible, in a haunted house or something, and see how it ends.”

What was that about not letting it escalate? _Strange strategy you have there, Mai._

Right now they’re still waiting at the entrance to the festival, which is much more of a carnival than something as traditional as he was expecting. He can see the Ferris Wheel from here and makes a mental note to try it, as it looks much bigger than the one at their local carnival at home, circling ever so slowly before the slowly reddening sky.

They’ve made a point out of going late, to see the colourful lights the festival has to offer better – that’s what it’s called, too, _Colourful Festival_. A bit boring of a name, he thinks, but it seems to fit.

“Yahoo!” a voice that’s unmistakably Oikawa’s calls from the parking lot and he’s waving at them, Sawamura, Bokuto, and Kuroo in tow. “Sorry for the wait!”

“Actually, you’re early,” Keiji remarks. By exactly three minutes and twenty-seven seconds, if his phone doesn’t deceive him. It’s a miracle Bokuto is on time, and he can only assume that was Oikawa’s doing. They cancelled each other out just enough to not be late, it seems.

He glances at Mai, but her expression is still not betraying anything but happiness. Maybe she really was just having a bad day back on Monday. It was a _Monday_ , after all, and that is universally regarded to be awful.

“But you were waiting for us,” Kuroo says with a smirk. “Oh, hey, Futakuchi.”

Oh no, they know each other.

Choosing to ignore them for as long as humanly possible he turns to Oikawa, who, surprisingly, is wearing his glasses again. Didn’t he say they were mostly for reading? Well, Keiji won’t _complain_ , but … Wait, that’s not the point. “What about Kozume and Shimizu-san?”

“Ken-chan locked himself in his room and Kiyoko has to work. Tacchan, too … They’re working at the same café.”

Those two manage to do a part-time job? Sometimes he wonders if he’s the only one with a terrifying schedule. “Yumi won’t be coming either, so …”

They’re complete.

He doesn’t know for how long he’ll be able to enjoy this, and he’ll surely be socially dead by the end of it, but right now, he’s looking forward to it. That is, if what he dubbed the Terufuta situation doesn’t take a turn for the worse and Mai doesn’t start acting weird again.

By all accounts, this should be a great evening.

“Oh my god, that’s so cool!” Bokuto shouts from Terushima’s direction. _By all accounts, this should be a great evening_ , he thinks again, more intently this time. “Akaashi! Akaashi, look, he has a tongue piercing! That’s so cool!”

There it is, the beginning of a combination he’s already tired of. “I know, Bokuto-san.”

“I wanna get one too! Let’s get one!”

Wait, doesn’t ‘let’s’ imply he means both of them? Either way, he knows it will only turn out in another debacle, and he’ll have to pay for the ice cream again when he inevitably doesn’t do it anyway. Ice cream, as he figured out recently, is far overpriced here, too. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Bokuto-san.”

Kuroo gives a knowing snicker and turns to Bokuto. “We can go together, bro. I wanted to get an ear piercing anyway.”

Did he really just say ‘bro’? Out loud? To an actual person? Unironically?

“Dude, that would look awesome,” Terushima says with wide eyes. Looks like the three of them have truly found each other. Keiji already regrets all choices leading up to this moment.

He notices Futakuchi quietly trying to flee the scene but Mai grabs his wrist before he can without even looking. She’s really adamant about this, it seems. Even though she’s the only girl, she definitely won’t be overpowered by any of them. In fact, she might be the scariest out of all of them, and considering their line-up, that means a lot.

Oikawa pats his back considerately and he nods, more to himself. These are his friends. This is the life he chose.

Seeing them all together like this does strange things to his heart.

Sawamura clears his throat loudly enough for all of them to hear, which is an amazing feat in and of itself, he thinks. “Shouldn’t we go? We’re standing in the way.”

They are, indeed, standing in the way of several other visitors that sneak past them with annoyed expressions, and they should, indeed, get going.

This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?

The first thing they see when they walk through the entrance is food wagons. _So_ many food wagons. The entire street seems to be full of them, until it spreads into a circle leading deeper down to the attractions at the end – not that the food wagons aren’t already attraction enough. The smells of sweets, barbecue meat, bread, fish, and many more all mix together and he has no idea where to start looking. He could go for Taiyaki … Or candied apples. Or crêpe?

“Let’s take the roller coaster!” Mai says enthusiastically and pumps a fist into the air.

Or they can do that. Fine.

“Uh, which one?” Futakuchi asks, checking something on his phone. “There’s … The _Ride of Death_ , the _Music Blast_ , the _Pink Unicorn_ …”

“Those don’t even sound like roller coaster names,” Keiji mutters.

“Wait, Ride of _Death_?”

“Oh, c’mon, Daichi,” Kuroo says, but he’s visibly shaking. “I-I’m sure it’s not half bad. Or are you s-scared, or what?”

“Funny you of all people would say that.” Oikawa giggles and Kuroo shoots him an angry glare.

“What are you saying, pretty boy?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he sing-songs and Keiji doesn’t miss him taking a step back to hide behind him. “Doesn’t _Pink Unicorn_ sound good?”

“That one’s boring,” Terushima argues.

Mai hums. “We’re from a music school, so _Music Blast_ sounds fitting, doesn’t it?”

Keiji doesn’t want to know what that could do to his eardrums if it lives up to its name. Terushima clearly knows his way around, but the second years don’t seem to, even though this is apparently a thing that happens every half year or so. Maybe they change the attractions sometimes or people retired? This isn’t an amusement park, after all.

Personally, he’s all for _Pink Unicorn_ if it is, in Terushima terms, ‘boring’. Roller coasters aren’t … Exactly his forte.

“Maybe we shouldn’t start with the most exciting thing,” is what he says instead of admitting it. “We’ll run out too quickly.”

“Good point,” Sawamura agrees, and it seems fairly clear which ones of them are the roller coaster type of people. He’s sure Kuroo would be very happy if they didn’t immediately go for death and destruction, Sawamura and Keiji seem to be on the same page, and Oikawa … Might just like unicorns, but who knows.

“Noo, let’s take Death, that one’s new.” Mai solemnly nods at Terushima’s side, and Futakuchi is standing a few feet away still staring at his phone.

“There’s a white-water ride too,” he says.

Sawamura raises an eyebrow, sceptical. “You want us to get wet at the very beginning?”

“We wouldn’t want to ruin Akaacchi’s good shirt,” Oikawa chimes in and shoots him a small grin, and all of a sudden he’s very aware of the fact he’s wearing that, albeit with a sweater over it. He might be a little bit overdressed, but he just felt like it today – but now that he’s actually here, he just feels silly. His gaze trails to the ground, and he tries not to think of it.

“Don’t any of you guys have jackets?” Bokuto asks with a laugh, despite the fact that he, too, is not wearing a jacket.

“You know, let’s just go and see what we find,” Futakuchi proposes in a moment of productivity, which Keiji is very grateful for. If they keep arguing about which ride to take first, they’ll stand here until the festival closes. Besides, they haven’t gotten far from where they met up, and if he stays here for longer he really will be craving all of this food.

“Good idea!” Mai says, but draws it out so it sounds really exaggerated, and the evil glint in her eyes is telling. “Kenji-kun, Teru-kun, how about you look already and we’ll buy something to eat?”

“With him? No way,” they protest in unison but don’t even seem to care.

He can’t believe Mai truly thinks this is going to work. Buying food doesn’t sound half bad, though, and he does want them to get over their differences and work it out, so what choice does he have other than to play along? “I think it’s a good idea for now, so we won’t be taking longer than we already are.”

Actually, it’s a stupid idea. It doesn’t change anything other than give them the opportunity to get rid of them, and very obviously so. Nobody would fall for it.

“I’ve heard there’s a shooting gallery somewhere on the left,” Oikawa says and he can almost _see_ the flames burning up in Terushima’s eyes, along with Futakuchi’s darkening expression. Without any more words, both of them nod and hurry away, quietly exchanging what he can only assume are curses.

“Rivalries are so fun to exploit,” Kuroo sighs.

“I’m assuming we’re all in on this?” Sawamura asks while snatching his wallet from the small bag he’s carrying. They all exchange looks that make the situation fairly clear.

He’s still not convinced they won’t kill each other, though …

“Alright, then let’s get going!” Mai claps her hands. “To the right before they come back!”

“If there really is a shooting gallery, they won’t come back anytime soon,” Keiji mutters and Kuroo snorts.

Sawamura blinks at them, confused. “Wait, we aren’t actually buying food?”

They aren’t?

“I thought we were,” he says and looks at Mai, who only shrugs.

“I mean, if you want to. I’m not really hungry, but go for it if you want.”

“Same here,” Kuroo agrees. Bokuto, however, remains quiet.

Hold on a second, Bokuto remaining quiet when they’re talking about food? Something’s not right here.

A quick glance around reveals what. “Where’s Bokuto-san?”

Oikawa narrows his eyes. “What do you mean? Bo-kun is right …” He pauses and looks around. “Not here?”

Silence falls over the group as they are all turning their heads to see if he’s standing somewhere at the food stands, but even with quite a few other people around, that hair would be hard to miss, and he’s nowhere to be seen.

After a minute or so, Kuroo sighs. “We lost Kou. How do you lose Kou?”

“We weren’t even moving,” Sawamura adds and runs a hand through his hair with a groan. “Maybe he’s at the bathroom?”

“What bathroom,” Mai states dryly.

“He would have said that,” Keiji argues, but he has no idea where else he could be. How did Bokuto disappear on them? _Bokuto_ of all people? Wasn’t this supposed to be this big let’s-all-go-to-the-festival-together thing? Surely he wouldn’t just leave them alone like this. “God, he’s so bad at hiding and we still lost him.”

“Maybe he followed Teru-chan and Futa-chan?” Oikawa proposes, and it sounds like the most reasonable thought yet put out by any of them. If he missed the whole Terufuta debacle, he wouldn’t have thought anything of it, and simply followed them because he wanted to and thought they’d meet up later anyway.

But they can’t just leave him there, and what if that’s not where he ended up after all? “I can try to call him …”

Kuroo shakes his head. “He forgot his phone. Already complained about it in the car.”

God, is nothing ever easy? Then … “Let’s look for him.”

“Let’s split up.” Mai’s ideas today range from completely stupid to mostly sound, and this is one of the latter. Splitting up defies their original intention, but that already happened when Bokuto decided to (accidentally, he assumes) ditch them. “The most unassuming person go look at Teru-kun’s and Futa-kun’s. Sawamura-san, maybe?”

He doesn’t look too happy with the idea and actually vaguely pissed off, though he might be imagining it. “Sure.”

“Then, Kuroo-san and I look here and outside of the festival area, and Aka-kun and Oikawa-san check the right. Should I add you to _everyone but futakuchi_?”

“Terushima would be able to read that, so no. Let’s make another group.” It’s going to be a lot of groups, but what can they do?

They quickly exchange phone numbers and Mai creates a group she names _The Great Owl Search Of 2014_ with all of them (but Sawamura, who does not have their messenger, or a phone that can do anything other than texting and calling, so he’ll just have to do one of those if he happens to stumble upon him).

“Sorry this turned out like this,” Keiji says. He’s not sure why he feels like he has to apologise, but considering neither Terushima nor Bokuto, who could be credited with the idea, are here right now, it seems like the right thing to do.

“Let’s find him quickly and it will all be alright again.” There it is, that fatherly sound in Sawamura’s voice, even if his face still betrays traces of anger, but also something strangely like acceptance. “Until then, we’ll just have to make the best out of this.”

It must be even more of a drag for him, since he’s going alone. Mai has Kuroo, and Keiji … Has … Oikawa …

While he gets that Mai doesn’t want to spend time with the latter alone, for whatever reason, she could have just as easily picked Keiji, especially since she seemed worried about it at rehearsal. A duo of her and him, and then another of Oikawa and Kuroo who are also friends … That would have made a lot more sense. And she sent them to the attractions, too, instead of assigning them to look away from the action like she’s now doing with Kuroo.

Oh, he knows _exactly_ what she’s pulling here. Honestly, now he feels like he’s going to have a good time out of pure spite. If it can drive Terushima to write a song, surely it’ll work for him as well.

And the thought of visiting the festival with Oikawa isn’t half bad. The planetarium was nice, there’s no reason for this not to be the same, if they’re on their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am convinced Bokuto constantly gets lost. you look away for a second and suddenly he's nowhere to be seen


	14. Stardust Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you want 6k words of pure unadulterated fluff? ... no? well you're getting it anyway
> 
> this is the longest chapter in this fic so far and I feel like that says a lot about me personally  
> it's also the only chapter without a single break. that's what happens when you write 6k words of carnival date I suppose
> 
> writing this chapter was one big realisation that I don't know my carnival / amusement park lingo, not even in German so I could translate it. mood: "WHAT IS THIS CALLED"
> 
> despite this being the least music-focused chapter, the title does feature in it. which is more than I can say about the last one. speaking of which I've been wanting to use this title for agES
> 
> you know what I also have been wanting to do for ages? WRITE AN AKAOI CARNIVAL DATE. AND NOW I FINALLY HAD A CHANCE I ALREADY MISS WRITING THIS CHAPTER AND I ONLY JUST FINISHED IT AAAAAAAAAA

“So it’s just you and me now, Akaacchi.”

Keiji isn’t looking at him, only staring straight ahead at the rides and wagons spreading out before them. Bokuto is nowhere to be seen. “So it seems.”

“Is this your first time here?” Oikawa asks, and Keiji furrows his eyebrows, turning to see if he’s actually serious, but there’s no hint of sarcasm on his face.

“Of course. I only moved here at the start of the school year.”

“So I figured …” He cocks his head, expression somewhat … Curious? “But I saw you last year at the open day, and the festival happened around that time, so I thought you might have gone then.”

“I didn’t,” Keiji answers and is about to tell him to start properly looking for their friend before it sinks in just what he just said. “Wait, you saw me?”

Oikawa hums. “I was there when Yozora-san sang _Crystalline_ and saw you in the audience, yes.”

Yozora, he assumes, is the name of the alumnus he heard back then, when he first fell in love with the song. He was alone then, since Bokuto had to help out one of the teachers, so he can’t blame it on him catching Oikawa’s attention. There were quite a few people there, though nothing outrageous, and he doesn’t entirely believe he stood out enough for anyone to even notice he was there.

The thought that anyone, let alone that boy taking his breath away at the entrance ceremony, would remember him sounds impossible, but here he has proof that it actually happened.

“Ah,” he mutters not very eloquently and lets his gaze fall back on the attractions to keep his mind occupied. “Let’s get looking. We don’t want to search for Bokuto-san all evening.”

Even with Bokuto’s height and unconventional hairstyle, though, it might be difficult to even see him, as the festival is steadily filling up with more and more people. They’ll have to make sure to not stray far from each other as to not lose yet another person in the masses.

“He could be on one of the rides,” Oikawa says. “If that’s the case, depending on what it is, we’ll have a hard time.”

“Please don’t jinx it.” Speaking of rides, however, getting on something high doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Then again, whether they’d really spot him no matter from where they’d be looking is questionable. And coming up with a strategy, while sound in theory, has never worked particularly well when the problem is Bokuto. “I think our best bet is to just take the normal route and hope we stumble upon him.”

“Alright, but stay close. We wouldn’t want you to get lost as well.”

While it’s exactly what he was thinking just a second ago, hearing someone else say it ticks him off a bit. “I don’t get lost.”

Oikawa snorts. “Yeah, you only pass out.”

“One more word and you’re buying me food,” he grumbles back, both because he really does want food and because while the other may be his senpai, he’s gotten the feeling lately that it’s okay to joke around with him like this.

(His insulted face is just too good to pass up.)

He adjusts his glasses and gives a noise that sounds vaguely like an amused walrus before lightly pushing Keiji forward. “Let’s go, let’s go, before Bo-kun vanishes from the face of the earth.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along.” Finally they start moving forward, if slowly so. On their left are mostly carnival booths and some more food wagons and a bit further down, a merry-go-round is turning endlessly, while on their right, loud electro music is blaring from rides that all look way too fast for Keiji’s liking. The road really does seem to be a big circle and one of the farthest attractions he can see looks like a haunted house. At least they know Bokuto isn’t in there – he would never go into a haunted house if he can find an excuse not to.

It’s a big area that will likely take them a while to scan completely, and he doesn’t know how much further it extends back where he can’t see anymore. Even if they do find Bokuto quickly, he doubts they have enough time to even visit it all unless they want to stay the whole night.

The sun has set almost entirely, but even with the cloudless sky, he can’t see any stars above them. The bright lights of the festival, while certainly colourful and atmospheric, are enough to make it look like it’s actually daytime. Keiji wonders what Oikawa thinks about it, if he likes space so much, but he’s probably just overthinking it. They should have other things on their mind.

“Ooh!” he suddenly calls and Keiji’s head turns to his direction in record speed. Right when he’s about to ask if he’s spotted Bokuto already, Oikawa puts a hand on his shoulder and points at one of the stands. “Look at that big alien plush!”

Indeed, there’s a positively massive green alien dangling from the ceiling of a shooting gallery. Judging from its size, it’s one of those prices that you can’t get unless you dump all of your money there or, in rare cases, are either extremely lucky or extremely skilled.

“I want that,” Oikawa says in a tone of voice that indicates he’s not joking.

“I don’t think that’s feasible,” Keiji argues. He doesn’t know the other’s shooting abilities, but they’re probably not enough unless he has far too much money to spend.

But when he looks at him and finds an excited blush coating his cheeks, his eyes sparkling (or maybe that’s just the reflection of the lights in his glasses), and it’s so unbelievably adorable, he can’t help his sigh.

Wordlessly, he takes the few steps to the wagon and quickly checks the prices and how much he’d need to get it. The objective is to hit plastic stars that get smaller and move more the higher their point number. He can’t clear it in one go of 5 shots per 500 yen, but if he hits all three of the 150 point stars, both of the 200 point ones, and then all four of the 100 point stars … He can mess up exactly once to get the 1050 points required for the alien plush in two rounds.

It’s not _impossible_ , and he’s always been good at these sorts of things. And if he ends up throwing 1000 yen out of the window then he can still get something smaller as a consolation price. He thinks he spotted a medium size version of the alien plush somewhere among the 525 point prices.

“Uhm, Akaacchi?” Oikawa asks and steps beside him, but Keiji shushes him. He needs to concentrate.

“I’d like two rounds, please,” he says to the uninterested looking salesperson behind the counter. This stand doesn’t look like a rip-off, as it should be completely possible to shoot the stars like advertised. He’ll just have to actually hit them.

He’s handed a mostly plastic, but heavy rifle and looks over the setup.

The small, easy targets in the foreground can be ignored completely. Where it gets interesting is further back, where they tried to give the aesthetic of a night sky, with the stars glittering there moving slowly from place to place, and the 200 point ones spin around seemingly at random. It’s doable.

Keiji takes a deep breath before laying the rifle down on the wooden stand on the counter and lining up with the sight.

Back home, his mother used to take him to a restaurant by an assortment of small gardens a lot, and there were two stands outside. One was a throwing game, but he always found the shooting range to be the more interesting one. The layout was different there, maybe even a bit more difficult, and over time, he got fairly good at it, helped by his natural precision.

It’s been a year since his last time, but he’s somewhat confident.

His finger finds the trigger, carefully, and he holds his breath to keep movement to a minimum – then, _bang_.

First 100 down, 950 more to go.

After he hits the next two 100s, it almost starts feeling easy, but he can’t lose his focus. The fourth 100 point star goes flying, and now is where the real challenge begins.

Should he go for the 200s first? There’s three of them, and he can mess up once, but maybe going for the two 150s to ease into the difficulty would be a better plan. Those pan over the background in ellipses, but at least they don’t spin. Alright, those first.

He waits a moment to get used to the pattern before lining up. Judging from their speed, he’ll have to shoot a bit earlier than he normally would. Three seconds, two, one …

The metal bullet only barely hits the star, but it’s enough to break it anyway. Keiji licks his lips and stands up for a bit to break his faulty timing there, then leans back in.

He hits the other one almost exactly in the middle.

Perfect.

Now to the main attraction – there really is no pattern to how they spin, and they do move, albeit only in lines and more slowly than the 150s. He could have really bad luck with this, but he’ll just have to hope he doesn’t.

Hitting it, even with its small size, should be easy enough, but he misses the first one, as it turns exactly when it’s supposed to strike. There goes his one miss – the next three have to be perfect, because he doesn’t think he should spend any more money on this. It’s too expensive in the first place.

His next bullet collides perfectly, and the salesperson whistles. Then again, and it’s almost too easy.

One more shot, one more star to go. He waits and waits for the star to spin again, and when it finally does, he wastes no time to nail it down immediately when it’s back in place.

“That makes 1050 points,” he says as calmly as he can manage, despite his racing heart, and puts the rifle down. “Can I have that big alien plush?”

Once he has it, he wants to hand it over to Oikawa, but that guy’s only standing there gaping at Keiji with a look of sheer disbelief. They stare at each other for a long moment, and Keiji would appreciate if someone took this plush from him because it’s very unhandy, until he seems to find his voice again.

“I’m … I’m not gonna lie, that was pretty hot.”

He successfully represses the urge to hide his face in the plush, but he’s certain the blush crawling up his cheeks is rivalling the festival lights in intensity. “Just take it,” he somehow gets out and almost stumbles over those three syllables.

It’s only when Oikawa does finally take the alien plush that he realises several things.

First, they were supposed to be looking for Bokuto, not hitting up the shooting gallery, but somehow they ended up here anyway.

Second, he just impulsively spent 1000 yen on shooting for an alien plush.

Third, that alien plush wasn’t even for him, but for the one and only person accompanying him, and only him, on this late evening at a festival.

Fourth, explaining how this is not, in fact, a date, is going to be very difficult down the line.

But it isn’t. That’s the thing. If everything had gone as planned, they wouldn’t even be here on their own, and god, he can’t be faulted for trying to enjoy this and making someone happy while he’s at it.

Besides, it can’t be a date if he isn’t even interested in the person he’s here with. Well, saying he’s not _interested_ is probably false, but it’s only a musical interest, perhaps a friendly one. Sure, Oikawa is easy on the eye and has been increasingly helpful to him lately, and they do get along, but just because he likes him doesn’t mean he holds any romantic feelings for him.

He relaxes a bit when he remembers that he’s actually got a point there. They’re friends, and that’s how it’s supposed to be. There’s nothing more to it.

_I’m not gonna lie, that was pretty hot._

Could you not, brain?

“Let’s go, we’ve wasted enough time here,” he says, more harshly than intended but he doesn’t even care at this point. At least carrying that plush around will make it fundamentally more difficult for Oikawa to drag him onto any rides, which he fears would have otherwise happened. Unless he wants to take it on every one, extra seat and all.

Of course his body would be reacting to being complimented. That’s what _happens_. He would have blushed had anyone said that, and the odd feeling in his stomach is likely due to stress or anxiety over not having found Bokuto yet. Not that they’ve done any proper searching so far.

At least the constant growth of the crowd has slowed down while he was busy getting that godforsaken plush. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy to navigate, though, and finding anyone in there would be a challenge even if they were a sparkling unicorn.

“Wow, it wasn’t this full last year,” Oikawa remarks and lays the hand that’s not holding onto the plush on Keiji’s shoulder. It doesn’t help his case. “If you get lost, just scream for me. You know, like, ‘Oikawa-sama! It would be an honour to receive your invaluable help!’”

“Do you want me to ditch you entirely?” Keiji deadpans but has to admit he has a point. A quick glance on his phone reveals that no messages from the others have arrived either, so they’re all still clueless.

“You could, but you wouldn’t survive a day without me.”

“Actually, I have been doing that for the past eighteen years.”

“You weren’t really _living_.”

“Great, then getting rid of you would mean I’m immortal again,” Keiji says with the smallest of smiles. “Since nothing that isn’t alive can die.”

Oikawa sighs dramatically. “Eternity is a curse, dear Akaacchi.”

“What are you, speaking from experience?”

“Nope, just smart.”

“Wonderful,” he says dryly, “but let’s have the philosophical discussions another time. We still haven’t found Bokuto-san.”

And they won’t, at this rate, if they keep doing anything but look for him, for god’s sake. And it’s his own fault, too. Which doesn’t mean he won’t blame it on Oikawa either way.

“Why would we need Bo-kun when we have …” He pauses and stares at his alien. “Akiko.”

So the alien’s a girl now. Do aliens have a concept of gender? Probably not, so the alien likely doesn’t care.

“You’re a terrible friend,” he says instead of voicing that, since he did say they should stop the philosophical discussions.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Of course we need Bo-kun. And I think …” His words trail off into nothing as he looks around before gasping lightly, as if struck with an idea. Before he knows it, a hand is at Keiji’s back, pushing him forward once again. “Our best bet is the Ferris Wheel. If we don’t see him from up there, we can say we’ve tried everything.”

If he remembers the plan he saw at the entrance correctly, the boarding point of the Ferris Wheel is right on top of the circle, directly in the middle of what they’d consider the left and right side. Which means they have half of the festival to go through still, and now that they have a goal, they don’t have to pretend they’re looking for him everywhere …

“Alright,” he says despite better judgement, mainly because he can’t come up with a counterargument. He did tell himself he’d have a good time out of spite, and a carnival visit is usually a good time, no matter with whom.

In the crowd, taking as much as one step already feels like a chore, so they move to the right a bit, passing closely by the colourful, loud rides filled with screaming people Keiji does not envy. He never saw the appeal of going so fast you feel like throwing up, or being dropped from a high distance with only a seat under you.

“Oh, that Free Fall is new!” Oikawa says and he feels like he shouldn’t have thought that.

“No,” he immediately shuts him down. “We’re not taking it.”

“Aw, why not?” He doesn’t miss him trying to nudge him closer to the ride, but remains steady.

“Because,” he starts, “we shouldn’t fool around too much since we’re still looking for Bokuto-san, and where would we put the alien?”

“Akiko!”

“Beside the point.” There really is no place to put it … Her? Them? Unless they really want to buy an extra ticket, which they won’t, because they won’t get on there in the first place. The mere thought is enough to make him shiver and now he’s glad he got the alien, as it makes for an excellent excuse.

Obviously, Oikawa still sees through him, because apparently, what he considers a half decent lie means nothing with him. “What, are you scared?”

“I’m goal-oriented,” he shoots back and sighs. “And look at that line. We’d wait there for ages.”

(He hasn’t even looked at the line, it was just a guess.)

“Ah, yes, that incredibly long line of three people.”

Of course his luck would fail him, when has it ever done anything else?

“It’s okay to be scared, you know,” Oikawa muses in that one special tone he still hasn’t quite deciphered.

He’s right, obviously, but admitting you’re afraid to someone else is entirely different than just being scared. Showing weakness can too easily be used against you, and while he’s never been one to play strong, he prefers to not trust people _too_ much until he’s comfortable with them.

Keiji wouldn’t say he’s _uncomfortable_ with him, but … He’s already vulnerable enough as it is.

“I won’t try and get on your bad side anyway, after seeing how you shoot. Seriously, how do you do it?”

He appreciates the mood shift and lets a smug smile play around his lips. “I have good precision.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

Thankfully, they move away from the Free Fall, down the road in the direction of the Ferris Wheel again.

It would be unfair to only follow his own wishes – he’s not alone, and if Oikawa wants to take a few of the rides, he should at least consider them. Maybe they can find something a bit less … Intimidating. The merry-go-round looked cute, or the bumper car ride a little bit down. Maybe the haunted house, even, or a swing carousel if they find one …

Before that, though, they should get something to eat, as he can feel his stomach growling.

“Let’s look for food, and then we can try out some rides.” ‘Some rides’ being unspecified as of now, but it can’t be impossible to find something they’re both okay with.

“Sounds wonderful! What do you want?”

What _does_ he want? Something traditionally Japanese, or something sweet, or maybe crêpe after all. All of it? He would if he could, but his budget is tight, especially after the shooting gallery situation.

“What do _you_ want?” he asks in return, hoping for a more concrete idea.

“Hmm …” Oikawa looks around and Keiji follows his gaze. The crowd hides quite a bit, but he thinks he sees a crêpe stand over there, and two sweets wagons in relatively close proximity. Some people are walking around with hot potatoes, so they should be close by as well. “Crêpe?”

Guess crêpe is going to be it today. He can’t complain. “Alright.”

That means they have to fight their way to the other side again, and he instinctively huddles a bit closer to Oikawa to make sure they won’t get separated, carefully making sure their hands won’t brush. Not that that would mean anything, but he doesn’t want the situation to turn awkward again, not until he got some damn food.

They make it to the crêpe stand somehow and he might be imagining it, but Oikawa seems to be clutching Akiko much harder than before. And he should; if the alien gets lost, that would have been 1000 yen for nothing. _Keiji’s_ 1000 yen. Personified in a big bright green alien plush.

He would have expected more people to be here, but the line is relatively short. With how big the festival is, the masses seem to divide rather nicely, although there are certainly some places more visited than others.

If you step away from the main flow of people going down the road, it’s actually pretty nice.

They get to order quickly, and Keiji has to part with yet another 500 yen, which is far too much for a simple crêpe with Nutella but now that he’s here he’s willing to pay it if that means he gets to eat. Oikawa orders one with cinnamon and sugar, and he thinks it suits him. He also buys a candied apple with it, and that’s just plain unfair, as he would have gotten one too if everything here weren’t so expensive.

That is, until they step aside to one of the standing tables and Oikawa holds the apple out to him with a smile.

“What?”

“For you,” he says as if it’s obvious. “I don’t know if you like candied apples, but if you don’t, I’ll just keep it.”

“What?” he repeats, dumbfounded.

“This apple. It’s for you. I bought it and you can have it. You know, that’s how presents work.”

“Wha—” He interrupts himself before this conversation can turn any more one-sided, although he still doesn’t quite understand what’s going on. “You mean I can have that?”

Oikawa looks torn between being annoyed and wanting to laugh at him. “Yup. That’s kind of the point.”

He extends his free hand slowly, maybe a bit too slowly, because he still isn’t sure he heard correctly, and when he reaches the stick, his fingers lightly brush Oikawa’s holding it. It’s a strange sensation and he hurries to take it from him to keep it from lingering longer than absolutely necessary.

“Thank you,” he sputters out a few moments late.

So far he’s truly been doing a fantastic job of not letting this turn into anything vaguely reminiscent of a date.

“It’s nothing compared to how you got me Akiko!”

Oh, right. That was probably why he did it – to make it up to him somehow. Of course. Why would there have been any other reason? It only makes sense.

Now he has a crêpe in one hand and a candied apple in the other, though, which is making eating either fairly difficult. At least the apple is still wrapped, so he puts it down on the table to quickly finish his crêpe. It’s not a particularly filling meal, but it is delicious, and enough to soothe his hunger for now.

Oikawa isn’t even half done with his own while he’s staring at him with narrowed eyes. “Uhm, Akaacchi, I think your crêpe disappeared. Or did you breathe it in?”

“Maybe you’re just slow.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asks and proceeds to shove his half crêpe down in a single bite, which ends in a coughing fit and Keiji’s own barely contained laughter.

When Oikawa can breathe again, teardrops sitting in the corners of his eyes, he manages to calm down as well, but that was a contest he has most definitely won. “Do you need anything to drink?”

He can almost see him debating between ‘no, I’m fine’ and ‘yes, that would be nice’, and eventually he holds out his hand for Keiji to grab his water bottle from his bag and hand it over, careful as to avoid any more accidental touches.

“Well, I’m never doing that again,” Oikawa mutters to himself and he has to supress another snort. “Stop laughing!”

“You should have known that wasn’t a good idea.” He bites his lip to keep himself from giggling any more and the stubborn, childish look on the other’s face wavers a bit when he hands him back the water bottle.

“Let’s just go,” he says and dumps his empty plastic plate into a nearby trash can, and Keiji does the same. Now he has the candied apple to carry around the rest of the evening though; he doesn’t particularly want to put it away and risk it being squashed in some way, so he’ll have to keep it in his hand. Oikawa has to do the same with the alien, and he doesn’t even have a bag, so it’s probably only fair.

“To the haunted house?” he proposes and the look of sheer terror crossing Oikawa’s face is answer enough. “Okay, not the haunted house.”

As if realising that being afraid of haunted houses is somehow considered uncool, he shakes his head a little too aggressively. “No, no, the haunted house is fine. It’s perfect. I’m just thinking, if you get scared, and I mean obviously I’d protect you but still, if you get scared, that will be … A very bad experience!”

“So not the haunted house,” Keiji repeats and raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, there’s no shame in being afraid!”

Mental note, Oikawa Tooru hates to admit his fears. If it makes him feel any better, he’ll play along, he doesn’t really mind either way.

“If you say so. The merry-go-round, then?”

They slowly start walking again, and all of a sudden he’s hyperaware of just how close they are, shoulders touching as to not get separated in the crowd. He can’t let that get to him, though, because stepping away would only mean that he’d acknowledge it.

He can’t help but compare this situation to the planetarium, much different in that they were on their own, but somewhat similar as well, a strange sort of comfortable laced with wariness.

Before the even reach the merry-go-round they stop at a raffle ticket booth, where he finds a very soft owl plush among the less expensive prices and spends more money on it than he reasonably should, though Oikawa insists to pay half of it, so it’s not that bad.

Then, just a minute later, they come across the white-water ride Futakuchi mentioned.

“Ooh, that looks fun!”

It does, indeed, look fun; it’s not as fast as he feared and he has always liked these sorts of things, thanks to some hidden masochistic streak or whatever it is. But while the weather is fine, getting too wet could be a problem, and he doesn’t have any clothes to change into, or a jacket to put over it. “Are you sure? With the water …”

Oikawa pouts. “See, that’s what I meant when I said you’re the responsible type. It’s just a bit of water, we won’t get soaked or anything. With a little bit of luck it won’t even reach us.”

“What’s the point of it being a white-water ride then?” he mutters, but he can’t deny that he kind of wants to take it.

Oh, to hell with it.

“Alright.”

The line isn’t too long, but they do wait a few minutes, and with every step closer to the entrance of the ride he thinks more and more that this is most certainly an absolutely terrible idea. But he can’t bail now, not when they are already sandwiched between people.

Akiko and Keiji’s new owl are sitting in the bag the raffle booth owner helpfully gave them after seeing Oikawa carry that alien around, so they’re relatively safe, and he thinks he sees the other attempting conversation one or two times but his voice is drowned out by the people chattering around them and the announcer advertising the ride, so he gives up eventually. Before he knows it, it’s their turn to sit down in the small boat.

There’s three rows with two seats each, and they just happen to get the ones directly in front. Just _wonderful_ , they’re definitely going to get wet like this.

He clutches his bag as they are being taken upward – it’s not all that high of a ride, definitely not like you’d have in an amusement park, but there’s a certain tension to it anyway. With his dislike for faster rides, this is about the most adrenaline he gets from these sorts of things.

When they arrive at the top, the view of the festival bright and clear below them, he feels a hand clumsily reaching for his. Squeezing a bit.

He doesn’t dare look at him and just like that, they fall.

The ride down is short, fast, and quickly replaced by a whole bunch of water splashing on them, and when they get off, his mind is battling between _that actually was fun_ , _that was a terrible idea I knew we’d get wet_ , and _what the heck? Was that handholding?_

Oikawa laughs and pulls on his shirt that, despite what he said earlier, is just about soaked, and Keiji doesn’t feel much better, his clothes clinging to his body.

“That was more water than it looked like from outside.”

“That is exactly why I said we shouldn’t,” he sighs and shakes his body, as if that actually worked to get dry.

“Hey, but it was fun!” Oikawa pauses and frowns, then runs a hand through his hair and stares at it. “I don’t think we’re as wet as we feel, though … Uh, do you have something to wipe my glasses with?”

Why is he wearing them in the first place? He should just take them off. “No, sorry.”

He seems to have a similar idea and does actually take his glasses off, and it looks strange for a second until he remembers that this is what Oikawa usually looks like. It’s very easy to forget. “Sorry if I startled you, by the way. I got the tiniest bit intimidated up there and, well, your hand was right there …”

And here he silently hoped they wouldn’t bring it up. At least he has a reason for it now, other than just to mess with him. “It’s fine,” Keiji murmurs, more to himself.

They resume making their way in the direction of the Ferris Wheel, but they somehow end up on several other rides before that, the merry-go-round, the swing carousel (more than once. Four times, to be exact), the bumper car ride, some more food stands, even a small tent filled with arcade games (the latter of which, as it turns out, Oikawa is absolutely atrocious at, so that Keiji wins every single one), the _Pink Unicorn_ , and then they decide to check out the other side of the festival as well instead of immediately heading for the wheel as soon as they get there.

When they arrive at the Ferris Wheel again, their clothes have dried and he doesn’t even dare look at the time.

It’s only when they board the open gondola and the staff woman closes it that he remembers what they are even here for.

“Have you gotten any message about Bokuto-san?” he asks and checks his own phone, but nobody texted or called him during the time they spent on the festival so far. If someone has found him, they haven’t told.

“Nope, but I’m sure he’s alright.”

“We’re supposed to be looking for him, you know—” He cuts himself short as the wheel starts moving, carrying them higher and higher with the lights of the festival growing smaller underneath them with every moment.

It reminds him of the planetarium, just much brighter, and much more colourful. From here he can see just how big the area actually is, and he recognises their starting point in the distance.

They’ve spent far too much time here fooling around, and part of him feels guilty about it, but somehow he doesn’t really care.

The wind is cool up here, a bit too cool. He should have brought a jacket after all, but the sweater is still keeping him adequately warm, and it doesn’t bother him all that much in the first place.

He almost thinks he’s imagining the soft humming when they stop at the wheel’s highest point, or that it’s coming from a very loud ride down there, until he realises that the source is Oikawa on the other side of the gondola across from him, head resting on his hand and the smallest of smiles playing on his lips as he’s looking into the night sky.

Keiji isn’t familiar with the melody, but it has a strangely nostalgic sound to it anyway, like something capturing the very essence of a feeling he can’t quite place.

“Is that a song of yours?” he asks and Oikawa blinks as he turns to him, as if he just ripped him out of his own little bubble. He almost feels sorry.

He catches himself quickly and hums in agreement, his smile growing. “It’s a new one. Nowhere near finished yet though, so you’ll have to wait a little longer until you can hear the full thing.”

“I like it,” Keiji says. “That part, at least. Do you know what to name it?”

“I’m thinking _Stardust Dance_.” Oikawa leans back, so far he’s a bit concerned about whether he’ll fall out even though he knows he won’t. “But I’m not sure which instrument I’ll be using … Piano, probably … Hm.”

Another star motive? Maybe saying he likes space was a bit of an understatement.

Before Keiji can answer anything to that, Oikawa leans forward again, fixing him with an extremely serious stare from chocolate brown eyes that seem almost black in the dark. “Do you believe in aliens?”

“What?”

“No ‘what’, just answer me!”

Why would he ask that with such an expression? Keiji thought he was going to tell him something life-changing or at least mildly important. Hesitantly, he replies, “I … Suppose so? I think it’s arrogant to say that we’re alone in the universe when it’s so big, but if you’re talking about those green Martians and things from movies, then no.”

“Acceptable,” Oikawa says after a long, awkward moment of silence. “I just wanted to make sure.”

Make sure that … Keiji believes in aliens? Somehow?

The Ferris Wheel starts turning again and transports them down gently, only to go past the entrance and take them up for another round, and even though they’re not talking, it’s not uncomfortable.

Occasionally, they point out things they see down there, and at one point Keiji almost thinks he’s spotted Bokuto until he notices what he thought was his hair is actually a balloon, and he almost chucks his owl at Oikawa for laughing.

And when they finally get off, he almost asks for another round.

That is, until he does look at the time and is shocked to find it’s just past midnight, far later than they ever intended to stay here even in the big group.

Thank god tomorrow – today is a Sunday. They still have to leave this whole place, too.

He’s not sure which train to take, either; they’re coming a lot less regularly at these hours, and he might end up getting stuck at the station for an hour, something he really wants to avoid.

“Would you mind driving me home?” he asks Oikawa as they head toward the exit.

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“If I … Should drive you home?” He doesn’t even have a car. Or a license.

Oikawa snorts and pats his head. “No, silly, if I should drive you. How do you survive without a car, anyway?”

“Public transport,” he says, mentally adding, _Or rather known as The Great Annoyance._

While they make their way to the parking lot, he pulls up their group on his phone. _Did you find Bokuto-san?_

It’s not until he’s sitting in the car – Oshirun – and they pull out of the parking lot that Kuroo answers, _ages ago ;)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't you ;) me Kuroo


	15. Missa pro Defunctis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title literally means "requiem". as in, the English word requiem, so like, a mass for the dead ... it's so sinister but I feel like it kind of fits, even tho this chapter is nowhere near dark.
> 
> most of this is build-up, but there's something coming up in the chapter after the next one (probably) that I am very excited to write, hehe. and another thing ... another big thing .................... I shall say nothing more
> 
> I can't believe this is at chapter 15 already it kind of makes me feel like it has to end eventually but I don't wanna end it ... I mean it can hardly go on forever bUT I DON'T WANNA END IT  
> well the end isn't anywhere near anyway but I don't wanna make it ridiculously long either because poor readers but like. what will I do with me life once this is finished. what??? probably write a spin-off lol
> 
> but that has nothing to do with anything it's just me being sentimental over something that's won't happen anytime soon anyway so I'm not sure why I'm even thinking about it
> 
> these notes are all over the place let's just. go. and sorry for those build-up chapters btw but they're necessary ... sadly ... this really is a slow-burn, dang.

Monday rehearsal is strange for many reasons.

“You left me alone with Futa!” Terushima whines at Mai.

“Why didn’t you tell the group chat about Bokuto-san? Weren’t we supposed to go together?” Keiji asks her with a hand in his hip and the darkest frown he can manage.

Mai, however, doesn’t seem to care. Mai just smiles at the two of them before disappearing into the alto section. Mai is a very bad friend.

Terushima turns to him and scowls. “I can’t believe this! She—”

Keiji can almost see the wheels in his head turning as his eyes widen, and he wants to bail, but can’t think of an excuse to, so he’s stuck standing here, waiting for the inevitable …

“You were there too! You ditched me too!”

And there it is. “I had nothing to do with that,” he says and it’s not really a lie, considering Mai just pulled him into this plan and he only happened to go along with it. He isn’t entirely blameless, but much more so than Mai. Besides … “I am just as much a victim here as you are.”

“What? How so?” He doesn’t get why he’d ask that until he sees the look of genuine confusion cross his features and realises that Terushima has absolutely no idea about his little date with Oikawa.

Which, in turn, leads to him asking himself why the hell he mentioned that, because surely now he won’t hear the end of it.

“I …” he starts, scrambling to come up with a somewhat plausible story, but can’t for the life of him imagine something that makes sense. He could just leave Oikawa out of the story and say the others left him completely alone, but Oikawa likely wouldn’t support that, that jerk.

With every passing second Terushima leans in a bit closer, and Keiji in return wants to run away but can’t do anything until their noses almost touch in an unspoken threat of ‘tell me, or else’.

Thankfully, someone taps his shoulder in just the right moment, and he hurriedly swirls around only to be face to face with the one person he desires to see just as little as his friend right now. He takes that ‘thankfully’ back.

Oikawa laughs. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“A ghost would be more pleasant,” he deadpans.

The thing is, while the evening at the festival was certainly enjoyable, it was also far too ambiguous for his liking. He’s not stupid, he trusts himself to tell if someone is interested in him. Well, most of the time, that is, because he still has absolutely no idea about Oikawa in that regard.

Coming home that night was alright, waking up the next day was when the realisation set in.

There’s three possible backgrounds to this. First, he just attracts really affectionate friends (possible, as that seems to be his talent). Second, Oikawa does have feelings for him (highly unlikely, since he would have absolutely no reason for it). Third, he’s trying to get on his good side only to use him or drop him later.

Keiji has always been wary in relationships, romantic as well as platonic. He trusts his friends and can be decently sociable when he actually gives a damn, but after seeing one of his closest junior high friends suffer from bullying by the very same people she’d considered her friends, he can’t help the fear in the back of his mind. And let’s face it, Oikawa has that air about him, unlike Terushima and Mai – the air that says ‘I’m popular and have no reason to associate with you’. On top of the start of their relationship, it only makes sense.

And possibly worst of all, he never seems to quite remember that until they’re not in a questionable situation anymore.

“You wound me, Akaacchi! Did the festival mean nothing to you?” Oikawa whines in mock hurt. “That’s not fair to Akiko, either.”

That dumb alien plush. Why did he shoot for it again?

“The festival!” Terushima pipes up behind them and Keiji flinches – he completely forgot he was still there. “What happened at the festival? Why did you ditch me? And ‘kaash, what were you about to say?”

“Goodbye?” he guesses, looking straight past them at the wall. It’s wooden, and can be removed to open up the stage. It’s an interesting wall. Very interesting.

“We didn’t _ditch_ you. You ditched _us_. You ran away with Futa-chan, remember?”

Kudos to Oikawa Tooru for making that sound half plausible instead of like the complete lie it was. Only one less reason to trust him.

“You said you were coming!” Terushima, too, brings up valid points. Probably more valid than Oikawa’s, considering that he’s actually telling the truth.

But it was for his own good, wasn’t it? Either that or Mai’s unconditional love of mass destruction.

“Aaanyway,” Oikawa drawls and places his hands on Keiji’s shoulders. “I’ve got to borrow Akaacchi for a second.”

He doesn’t even get time to complain before he’s gently pulled away and maneuvered outside, a bit farther away from the door where, now that it’s almost time for practice, a lot of people are arriving.

“So, Akaacchi.”

Keiji looks for something, anything, in Oikawa’s expression that would betray any malice or bad intentions, but all he sees is a very smug grin. “What is this about?”

“I know for a fact that Nekomata is about to tell us we’re having a concert soon.”

They … What? He hasn’t heard about that at all. “How so?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. Surely there’s more to this.

“I overheard him talk to Washijou— The director of the national orchestra a few hours ago.”

The yelling old man? Why would someone like that want anything to do with a measly choir, even if it is Karasuno’s?

Also, national orchestra. There was something concerning that. What was it? He can’t remember, but it feels like it was something recent …

“He’s going to tell us more about it at practice, I’m sure, but I wanted to get a head start because I have to leave early today.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, and it falls back into his face swiftly. “Basically, what I’m trying to ask is, do you have time to practice together? There’s some things I’ve noticed lately that I think I can help you with.”

Keiji blanks.

Every possible answer is wiped straight out of his brain, and for a second he simply stands there trying not to gape too much. What is he supposed to say about that?

“You could have told me that inside,” is what comes out and he takes it, it’s better than the awkward silence creeping up on them at least. And whichever part of his brain came up with that actually has a point – there was no need to pull him outside if he was just going to tell him that.

Oikawa blinks and cocks his head before he seems to realise what he just said. “Ah, no, that was just a two birds with one stone thing. We’re outside because Futa-chan can’t find us.”

And here he hoped they were finally done with this, at least when Terushima isn’t around, but alas, he thought wrong.

“About the thing with him and Terushima … How much are we allowed to say? None of the others told me, but wouldn’t it be easier to just tell him to get it together?”

“I have no idea,” Keiji retorts dryly. “They ditched me just as much as they ditched you, and I haven’t really talked to any of them yet.” What was that about, anyway? Kuroo did send him that winking smiley face, but Mai would definitely not agree with … Basically doing the same thing to them that they did to Terushima and Futakuchi.

“I was hoping maybe Mai-chan talked to you,” Oikawa says and Keiji almost laughs at the absurdity of it. This entire situation is becoming convoluted, and Mai is certainly not going to help him.

“I’d say let’s keep quiet for now,” he proposes in lack of a better action. If it was his choice, he’d clear this whole thing up as soon as possible, but he doesn’t quite trust Terushima. “That goes for us too.”

He gives him a look of mock hurt, voice adequately whiny when he says, “Why? Are you ashamed of me?”

Keiji debates saying yes, but doesn’t get the chance as Sawamura calls them from the door, signalising that practice is about to start.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa, as it turns out, was right about the concert, but what he did not tell him was the line-up – and _Spica_ just so happens to be on there.

While Nekomata is explaining how they are going to perform three songs as an introduction to a smaller concert by the national orchestra, Keiji is trying his best not to let the thought of singing their duet in front of a crowd all too soon get to him. If Nekomata agreed to this, surely he thinks they’re adequate enough.

“I’ll be frank – at the level you are currently at, you wouldn’t come anywhere near the higher ranks of the competition.”

Well, or that.

“But there’s only so much that practice can teach you. A lot of you are first years, some of whom have never stood on a stage with a choir before. Sooner or later you’ll have to, and there’s no better way to get used to it than to do it. The audience is not going to be big, but remember that we’re still performing with the national orchestra. Doing anything but our best would be a disservice both to them and ourselves.”

Now he’s a bit glad Oikawa told him about this, because it certainly would have hit him even harder had he not, and Keiji can’t say he’s feeling particularly good about it. The feeling in his stomach is similar to that he felt at the festival, but lacks all the warmth it had, only leaving dread and a distinct sense of imminent failure.

Nekomata said it himself, they’re not all that good. Better than most, sure, but nowhere near what’s expected of them. It’s natural, they haven’t been rehearsing together for that long, but after the practice camp, he thinks they should be better than they are right now.

And he’s going to sing his duet part in front of the people who came to see the national orchestra.

Strangely enough, he’s not _nervous_ per se, and it’s a familiar feeling. Back at Fukurodani, he’d be fine for the longest time until just before they started, when they were standing backstage and everyone was getting giddy. And Fukurodani was nowhere near this scale, nowhere near these expectations.

He might have to let Oikawa teach him, though he doesn’t know what he’d even do. Something, anything that could ease this.

Terushima, predictably, seems stoked. “A concert!” he whispers very loudly. “‘kaash, we’re having a concert!” If nothing else, it appears to have made him forget about the festival situation, though right now Keiji’s not sure which one is the lesser of the two evils.

He’s glad his friend can look forward to this, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t _excited_ , but …

“As I said, we’re doing _Spica_ , _Above_ , and _Missa pro Defunctis_. The date is July 23 rd, so we still have time, and I still expect all of you to do your best in practice. Despite what I just said, you’re a talented bunch.” Nekomata grins. It looks genuine and helps a bit to make him feel better. He would certainly call them ‘talented’; not all of them, but most. They have Terushima ‘wrote a song out of spite in two weeks’ Yuuji, Nametsu ‘voice of an angel’ Mai, Oikawa Tooru, just, in his entirety, and some of the other soloists have been doing stellar jobs. Their harmonising, while not on point, is improving drastically, and they’re having fun, which is also important.

And yet he can’t shake the feeling that something will go terribly wrong.

Rehearsal takes place as if nothing happened and during their break, Oikawa leaves before Keiji can ask him about those practice plans. He’ll have to write him a message once he’s figured out when he would even have the time.

Sometimes he forgets that his initial goal was to learn from Oikawa, and this is an opportunity presented on a silver platter if he’s ever seen one. Now that he has it, he feels giddy and wary at the same time, though, unsure of what to make of it. If it’s choir-related, he thinks he can trust that he just wants to best for all of them, and he hasn’t done anything bad to him, but he can’t shake those feelings of mistrust.

And Mai’s stance toward Oikawa only helps to fuel them.

Later that evening, after he showered, he stumbles upon the sheets for _Crystalline_ he copied a while back. He still doesn’t understand the song, and taking it into account, it raises more questions about its composer as well.

_Hold me close as I break._

“Who hurt you?” he mutters to himself and feels stupid immediately after he said it, but the words seem to resonate through his apartment for minutes after.

 

* * *

 

It hits him in the middle of Musical History the next day.

“I forgot about Shirabu.”

Most of the class turns to stare and it takes him a good second to figure out he said that out loud, and embarrassment creeps up quickly, but he can’t even be bothered too much by it because _he forgot about Shirabu_.

“Bach,” the professor corrects. “And I don’t know who Shirabu is, but he doesn’t sound European.”

“Sorry,” he hurries to say and is thankfully not met with laughter, as everyone turns their attention back to their notes and the presentation on the wall.

He should have at least told Shirabu or Semi that he wouldn’t teach him, but to be honest, he doesn’t even know if he can because after he received that message, he immediately forgot about it again.

Now he does feel a bit mortified – that sort of thing does not happen to Akaashi Keiji, except it did.

“Shira-kun?” Mai whispers and leans over slightly. “Did something happen?”

“Sort of,” he replies quietly, but it sounds more like a question. “Semi-san asked me if I could help Shirabu get piano lessons and I completely forgot about it. It was a week ago, too …”

The noise he receives speaks of both understanding and disappointment. “He didn’t say anything about that, but you should make that clear as soon as possible.”

He should. At least he figures that he most likely does not have the time – Oikawa hasn’t yet had the decency to answer his text, but he assumes the time he would have had to teach Shirabu is going to be taken by their practice now.

Or should he tell Semi that? If Shirabu didn’t mention it, maybe he doesn’t even know. But surely Semi would have told him about how he asked other people unless he wanted to make it a surprise. How close are they? If Keiji remembers correctly, he just called him a first year he knows, not a friend. But he was the one who asked him …

“Remind me to text Semi-san later,” he quietly tells Mai and she flashes him a thumbs-up. Although, now that he’s thinking about it, he probably owes them something better than just a ‘no’ – he can at least try and look around to maybe find someone who’d be willing to teach Shirabu. Surely there have to be some kind souls around here.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t usually eat at the cafeteria, no matter how good the food, but today he’s sitting with Bokuto, Kuroo, the girl from last time whose name is apparently Amanai Kanoka, and Terushima has joined them as well.

“I’m so sorry!” Bokuto says with his mouth full of rice not for the first time today. “I just wanted to follow Futakuchi and Terushima and got distracted!”

He waves him off, also not for the first time today. His short attention span isn’t anything new, although it can lead to situations like that and end up worrying everyone, but that’s just the way he is. It did destroy their group visit though. Maybe they can do that another time. “Don’t worry about it, like I said. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Terushima makes some noises that sounds vaguely like he’s trying to talk to them, but it’s muffled to obscurity by the food in his mouth, even more than Bokuto has. It’s like he just dumped everything on his plate into it and he reminds Keiji of a hamster a bit, with big round cheeks. Somehow, it’s an animal that suits him. If he ever gets a hamster, he’ll name it Yuuji.

“Anyway, there’s something I wanted to ask you. Does any of you know someone who could give piano lessons for free?”

Amanai looks up from her phone and hums. “Maybe Kenma-kun?”

“If you get him to do that, congratulations, you’re a god.” Kuroo huffs out a small, hopeless laugh. “It’s hard enough to get him to practice by himself. He’d never teach someone.”

“Maybe Oikawa?” Bokuto asks.

Well, granted, it _might_ be a possibility, but Keiji doubts he has the time. There’s probably no harm in asking either way. “I’ll try asking him. I wish I could do it myself, but I really can’t.”

“What’s this about anyway?” Kuroo says while poking the fried chicken on his plate. Keiji summarises the situation quickly and earns a knowing “aaah”, followed by, “Yeah, Semi asked me about that too. Don’t know anyone who’d do it though.”

Terushima audibly gulps down his food, finally. “Why’s Semi doing that even? Can’t Shirabu do it by himself?”

“He is actually asking around himself, but there’s nothing wrong with helping out a friend,” Amanai says and glances at her phone again. “I have to go though, sorry!”

“Meeting your boyfriend?” Bokuto blurts out with a grin on his face as if he was the one about to meet a significant other. Judging from the immediate dark blush crawling up Amanai’s face, he’s not wrong.

“He’s not … I mean we’re not … See you!”

They look after her as she stumbles out of the cafeteria and almost trips over her own shoelaces on the way. Keiji’s not entirely sure what she’s even doing here in the first place, but from what it looks like, Bokuto has taken her under his wing as a fellow drummer. If only he could do the same for Shirabu’s hopefully soon starting piano career.

Terushima pouts. “Aw, she’s got a boyfriend? Shame.”

“Are you planning on crushing on everything that moves?” Keiji mutters, but he knows the answer already.

“People are pretty! I’m allowed to crush on pretty people, and I can’t help it if everyone’s pretty!”

“That’s the spirit! Go crush on all the people!” Bokuto almost shouts and they fist-bump across the table, almost knocking over Kuroo’s glass of water. Keiji exchanges a tired look with him. “Date all the people, too! As long as they’re okay with it!”

“I will!” Terushima replies with sparkling eyes, staring up at Bokuto like he just found his master. Considering that to Keiji’s knowledge, Bokuto’s experience with relationships can all be tracked down to very bad romance movies, he may or may not have a bad awakening later when he realises said master has no idea what he’s talking about. Their enthusiasm is admirable, though.

“If you happen to end up dating someone who can teach Shirabu how to play the piano, that would be nice.”

He receives a look of sheer confusion that makes him wish he hadn’t said that. Before he can retract it, his friend says, “Why would I help Shirabu? Yahaba wouldn’t want me to help Shirabu.”

Why? Why does it even matter? Why did he have to get roped up in that presumably petty argument in some inconceivable way? And why is Keiji his friend again?

“Forget it,” he replies and sighs heavily. It shouldn’t be hard to find a halfway decent piano teacher at a music school but his friends will apparently not be of much help.

 

* * *

 

The text he finally got from Oikawa that evening called for an impromptu meeting on Wednesday after school in the diner they got food at after Bokuto’s concert, and once again Keiji is eating what the other left over, because he’s seemingly incapable of simply ordering a smaller portion.

Predictably, Oikawa already declined giving Shirabu piano lessons, though not for time reasons but rather because he doesn’t seem to like Shirabu much. He can only guess why, as he’s not about to ask and get himself even deeper into this.

“So, when do you have time?”

That’s a very good question. His schedule would be easy to plan around, but homework likes to squeeze in between and destroy his time management. “Usually … On Saturdays? It depends on the work, but …”

“Hm …” Oikawa swirls around one of his wooden chopsticks and drops it onto the table in the process. He quickly clears his throat and picks it up again, this time pointing at Keiji with it. “Time-wise, Saturday works just fine, but we’d have to find a place outside of the school. Most people practice there on Saturdays, so it can be difficult to get a room or find a quiet area. Any ideas?”

His apartment is the first thought that comes to mind; the idea of letting Oikawa in there feels strange though. He’s not sure what he has to hide, but there has to be _something_. But he has his keyboard there, which they’ll probably need, and getting somewhere else with a decent instrument to accompany them could be a challenge.

He still doesn’t know what the school dorms look like, but he doubts somehow that they’d be enough, and the walls might not be all that thick – at least at his own place, the soundproofing is actually quite solid.

And if they do use his apartment, he could use that to his advantage and let Oikawa help him with schoolwork, if he’s there already … From a rational perspective, everything is speaking in favour of the idea – from an emotional one though …

“Is there … Any music school … I mean, not like Karasuno, but just one where people can take instrument and vocal lessons?”

Oikawa hums and cocks his head, looking out of the window at the fairly empty street. “There is one, but I don’t know if they let people borrow their rooms. I can ask, if you want?”

“It also depends on how intense those practice sessions are going to be anyway,” Keiji argues before emptying the rest of his – or formerly Oikawa’s – udon soup bowl. He has no idea what’s in store for him, and under normal circumstances he might not even have agreed, but with the concert looming on the horizon, he needs all the help he can get.

He can’t let his own incompetence drag their entire performance down, not when he’s standing in the spotlight.

“Having a piano would definitely be helpful … Do you have one at home?”

Oh, wonderful. Now he either has to lie or find an excuse as to why it won’t work even though he does.

Or he could just agree to using his apartment.

“Somewhat,” he starts warily. “It’s just a keyboard though, so it’s not like an actual piano.”

“A keyboard will do just fine! Can’t we just practice at your place then?”

He wouldn’t say he doesn’t _want_ him there. He’s just not fond of the idea. Of anyone intruding, really, not just Oikawa, but with him especially he feels like he’d have to be much more careful – he doesn’t doubt he’d use everything he knows against him if they ever ended up actual enemies.

But then maybe, just maybe, he should give him the benefit of the doubt. Keiji’s not stupid after all, and he’s very capable of ruining someone’s life in return if need be. He doesn’t necessarily want to, unless the person in question is called Miya Atsumu, but he could.

It’s for the greater good after all, right? He wants to do his best on the stage and this is his opportunity to finally do what he came here for in the first place, and just turning down the offer because he’s not entirely comfortable with the place would be highly irrational.

“We can,” Keiji says, and the words don’t feel all that good in his mouth, but what is he to do.

“Perfect!”

‘Perfect’, he thinks, is not how he would have phrased it, but maybe it’s just his own lack of knowledge of what exactly Oikawa has in store for him. It seems to be a pattern in their relationship that he’s not sure how to feel about. It forces him to take things as they come, which he’s not used to. Actually, a lot of his time at Karasuno has been like that.

Perhaps this is life trying to give him a hint, but if he knows one thing, it’s that life has a terrible sense of humour sometimes, and he knows better than to trust it.

Sadly, though, he still has to live with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //casually namedrops Miya Atsumu because he won't have a role but I like Akamiya. it's like number 3 on my List Of Akaashi Ships I Actually Ship. but it's not romantic here. I just wanted to mention Miya Atsumu. he's there now. live with it. (it's funny because I actually prefer Osamu)


	16. Remember, darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many things could have gone down in this chapter, but they didn't, because they'll go down in the next one and this is more of an intermission than anything ... or, well, an intermezzo. we are in a musical fic after all. does this warrant a badumm-tss?
> 
> the mystery as to how on earth Terushima breaks into Akaashi's apartment continues ... what is he, some sort of ninja? honestly, he's Terushima, and I trust his ability to defy logic to the utmost.
> 
> this could have been longer but I didn't want to draw it out too much, since I really want to get to the next one. I've been talking about the next chapter so much lately that I feel kind of bad for this one, even last chapter I mentioned the next one and this one is just ... there ... is it possible to feel pity for a fictional chapter of a story? because I do. //pat in another life, ch16, you will be great, even if for now, you are but a bridge to the chapter I really want to write. I'm sorry. ;A;
> 
> the lyrics for Remember, darling will eventually come up btw! I like how they turned out, so I have no excuse not to. just not in this chapter yet. they might have had had (English why) I made this longer, but I didn't, because next chapter is likely already going to be longer again. aND NOW I'M TALKING ABOUT NEXT CHAPTER AGA IN
> 
> to this one's defense, there's Akaoi. granted, this is an Akaoi fic, so that's to be expected, but statistically speaking, there's probably more Akaoi than usual. unless you count the carnival date. or the planetarium. or the practice camp--

He’s stirring his coffee even though there’s absolutely no need to; the black liquid just whirls round and round with the motions of his spoon, faster and faster until it looks like the smallest of whirlpools in his bright pink owl cup.

“Whoosh,” Keiji murmurs into the silence of his apartment, and as soon as he says it, it sounds so ridiculous to him he can’t help but laugh a bit.

Perhaps sleeplessness is getting to him in new ways. It’s better than passing out, he supposes.

The thing is, he has absolutely no reason not to have slept properly. He went to bed at a reasonable time, had all his work done so there was nothing to stress over, and was tired enough to trust his body not to stay awake anyway. A misplaced trust, as he had to find out, because said body is keen on being a total jerk to him – or maybe he should blame his brain instead for staying active instead of shutting down like it should have.

It’s Saturday, and Keiji may or may not have spent the entire last night hoping it wouldn’t be.

He knows it’s dumb, because it is. There’s no reason to feel anxious, he’s taken care of hiding everything he needed to, made his apartment as impersonal as possible, and yet he still lay there for longer than any sane human being should, staring at the ceiling and imagining Oikawa sitting on the very same couch he was lying on.

(At some point, Terushima sent the everyone-but-Futakuchi group a link to a truly obnoxious TV ad, which ended up being the final nail in Keiji’s coffin. That jingle is still echoing in the back of his head. _Just go – just go to Kaniaru Company … For the number one tiles in all of Japan …_ Oh no, it’s coming back.)

Being this tired isn’t helping him in any way either. Oikawa’s going to come no matter how little Keiji has slept, they’re going to practice and he’s going to fail horribly, and by the end they’ll probably decide there’s no point to it and that they should never do it again.

For some reason, that, too, is very funny to him and he drops his head on his arms lying on the table and quietly laughs into them.

The time they made out was twelve PM and right now it’s half past ten, so he still has an hour and a half of time – less if Oikawa is early again – to drive himself even more crazy.

He debated feigning sick and spending the day practicing the flute, which he has really been neglecting lately, or perhaps meet up with Mai to go over their schoolwork, but that would be like running away. Actually, it would _exactly_ be running away. Not only is that not really an admirable thing to do, it also won’t do him any good in the long run; problems have a nasty habit of catching up with you very quickly, no matter how fast you run.

“There’s no need to panic,” he mumbles into his arms, trying to convince himself of it. It doesn’t really work, but it’ll have to do.

Maybe he could take a nap, but that would mean being all groggy and tired when Oikawa comes around, and he can’t have that either. Everything is a dilemma today, and he’s the poor soul caught in between.

He stands up from his chair to pour himself a glass of water, then starts pacing around his apartment for a good ten minutes before dropping onto the couch and turning on the TV. There’s nothing good on, so he turns it off again, finishes his glass of water, goes to pour another one, pulls out his laptop to check his social media. No messages, but Bokuto tagged him in several pictures of cute dogs on Twitter, which he appreciates. The only Let’s Play series he follows won’t update until later today, but one of his favourite cover artists posted something. Their piano skills make him so envious he closes the video halfway through. Some more scrolling through Facebook, making him wonder why he still has it because hardly anyone has added him there. Then a quick check of Instagram. He’s never posted anything on his own account, but he likes looking at other people’s photos, even if he only ever looks at it once every blue moon.

Mai posted a nice view of the sunrise, making him question if she got up that early or went to sleep that late. Honestly, he doesn’t know which one would be better. There’s a blurry photo of a workout studio from Bokuto, captioned with _and what are you doing???_ and several usernames, most of which he doesn’t recognise. He supposes ‘kiyocchan’ is Shimizu – the name is far too cute to suit her usual demeanour – and ‘toorurun’ is Oikawa …

It’s not surprising that Oikawa has an Instagram account, heck, even _Keiji_ has an Instagram account. Unlike him, though, he’s probably actually using it to post things. His thumb hovers over the link; surely it can’t hurt to take a look?

He was right and ‘toorurun’ – it’s a name equally as cute as supposedly-Shimizu’s, but sounds much more natural for him – is indeed Oikawa, but there are less selfies than he expected. To be fair, he’s not quite sure what he expected to begin with. A lot of photos of instruments and sheet music, some neatly written notes, several pictures of the night sky, and the occasional shot of a young boy with a bright, toothy grin. According to the captions, it’s his nephew Takeru, and he seems to love him a lot. Keiji can’t help but smile at the idea – who knows, perhaps Oikawa makes for a good uncle. He can imagine him having a way with children.

That’s not to say there are no selfies at all though, there are a lot, but they do get drowned out a bit by the sheer amount of photos Oikawa seems to take. Keiji thinks he might have been hoping for him to be unphotogenic but that’s not the case at all, and he looks ridiculously good on every single one of them, though he does try a bit too hard to seem cheerful sometimes.

One in particular stands out. It’s a group shot with several people he doesn’t know, and Oikawa looks a bit younger on it, wearing a high school uniform. The smile on his face looks genuine and so do those of the people around him. One of them, a boy shorter than him, with spiky black hair, has an arm draped over his shoulders, another with thick eyebrows and a sly grin is fistbumping one with light pink hair that can in no way be natural, while in the background, someone who looks vaguely familiar to him, all round features and soft looking light brown hair, is dragging a dyed blond boy who clearly does not want to be there into the photo.

It must have been during high school, possibly close to graduation, so at least a year ago and then some. The background is hard to see with the amount of people, but he thinks he sees a guitar case somewhere in the back, and they’re outside of what’s most likely their school.

Something in Keiji’s chest tightens when he sees them like that. They’re clearly a tight-knit group of friends, and this photo specifically seems to be personifying the very cliché of _high school will be the best time of your life_. He can’t imagine anyone taking a photo like that with him back then. Well, Bokuto probably would, but they’d still be only two people, and while he did have other friends, none of them were really … Best friends.

It’s both a really nice photo and one he can’t stand to look at for long, and his gaze keeps falling back onto the boy closest to Oikawa, the one with the spiky hair. Is that Iwaizumi, his childhood friend? If so, he doesn’t look like Keiji expected, though he’s not sure how he envisioned him in the first place. He looks like the rowdy type rather than the responsible one, but what does he know, this is his first time seeing him and it might not even be Iwaizumi after all. Somehow, though, he doesn’t particularly like him on this photo. It probably has to do with that arm over Oikawa’s shoulders – not that he can judge him for doing that with his friend, but something about it still rubs him the wrong way.

He stares at the picture for a long time despite his feelings, then taps away to scroll around a bit more. He’s not really looking at most of the photos, if he’s being honest, only skimming them to find something vaguely interesting.

Among some of the newer ones, he’s stopped by a particularly pretty selfie in the library of Karasuno. It looks like it was taken the same day he took him to the planetarium, at least the outfit seems the same and he is wearing his glasses – which, Keiji is starting to realise, he really likes on him, something he would probably only admit to himself in this tired state of his. Oikawa’s flashing a peace sign and a bunch of schoolwork is visible on the table in front of him, in a notion of ‘hey, look, I’m looking cute _and_ working hard’. It’s something he’d usually sort into the category of ‘trying too hard’ but it seems to work perfectly fine on this, and the soft filter paired with the warm browns in the picture make for beautiful colours.

Damn Oikawa Tooru and his good looks. It’s not fair in any given aspect.

He knows for a fact he should not like anything on this profile, as his username – ‘akaashi.keiji’, which Bokuto has complained about more than once for its boringness – would easily give him away, but hell, is it hard right now.

Maybe he should start actually using his account as well. Maybe what he needs is to rival him, not admire his photos. Maybe he’ll be the one whose photos will be looked at. Maybe Oikawa will think the exact same things.

Though to be fair, he probably won’t; even if he was truly interested in him, a thought that sounds more fake the longer he thinks it, Keiji’s own few attempts at selfies have failed horribly, to the point where he stopped trying a while ago. He wouldn’t consider himself unphotogenic per se, but he can’t seem to get the selfie thing down. Up until right now, it hasn’t bothered him. He just wants to compete, is all.

Going on that profile was a bad idea to begin with, and he clicks out of it with a sigh. He should have known better than this, really, but he’ll blame it on his convenient lack of sleep if he so has the opportunity.

Now he has nothing to do anymore, and he spends the rest of his waiting time pacing around the room, making himself another coffee and then pouring yet another glass of water, and staring at the clock until his doorbell rings.

Usually, he finds the sound inviting, but right now it feels like it’s laughing at him. _Look at you, all pathetic._

He doesn’t want to open the door but figures he has no other choice, and the silence _has_ been driving him a bit crazy, so he slowly puts his hand on the handle and pulls.

Oikawa has a black bag slung over his shoulder that a dark red folder is slightly sticking out of. His hands are in the pockets of his unusually casual grey sweater jacket, the sleeves pulled up to his elbows and revealing surprisingly muscular lower arms. And of course he’s wearing those damned glasses again, weren’t they supposed to be for reading or something?

Keiji knows he shouldn’t be staring too hard, but with the sunlight coming from behind him and lighting him up _just_ right, it’s hard not to.

Sometimes he wonders if he should hate him for being this damn handsome. Such looks should go to better people.

“Good morning,” Oikawa singsongs as Keiji steps aside to let him in.

“It’s …” He quickly checks the clock ticking away at the wall. “Eleven forty.”

“It’s always morning if you believe hard enough. Besides, that’s still before noon!”

He decides no good can come out of arguing with him on this, so he drops the topic and gestures to the couch. “You can sit down, if you want.” He’d prefer if he didn’t, but saying that would really be impolite.

“Nice small place you have,” Oikawa muses and does as told, and Keiji tries not to flinch. He shouldn’t be this nervous. “Still bigger than my dorm room, though.”

Okay, that raises new question about those mysterious dorm rooms. His apartment isn’t big in the slightest, so for Oikawa to have a couch _and_ a bed when there’s barely enough space for a mix of the two here makes his room sound bigger. He doesn’t understand it.

“I suppose,” he replies weakly and clears his throat. “Do you want anything to drink?”

He figures he should at least try and be a decent host, and if they’re singing they should be properly hydrated, but Oikawa waves him off, instead rummaging through the bag now sitting next to him on the couch. “No, thank you … Where is that dang … Ah!”

Before he even knows what’s happening, he’s being tossed something that he barely manages to catch in both of his hands, a leather string dangling down. When he opens them, he sees a small wooden owl, with details carved into it that make him think this can’t be factory-made – it’s a necklace, and a very nice one at that.

“I saw this at the mall and thought of you!” He doesn’t dare look at Oikawa right now, because he’s definitely blushing at those words. _I saw this and thought of you._ Few people ever say it, since few people tend to think of him unless they’re already facing him, but this mystery of a man even remembered him being there at last year’s open campus, so he’s not sure why he’s surprised. “I hope you like it, because … Okay, it wasn’t all that expensive, but I still paid for it, soo …”

“You can’t buy my affection,” is what comes out of his mouth when he wants to say ‘thank you’.

Oikawa blinks at him very confusedly. “I mean, I can _try_ — Wait, that’s not what I wanted to say. It’s not like that! I just thought it would be nice.”

Is Keiji onto something or simply being rude? Sometimes, those two seem to overlap.

“I’m sorry,” he manages to say without another slip-up. “I meant to say thank you. I like it.”

He really does, and it’s not making this any easier. With a present like this, he can almost believe he does have an interest in him, but at the same time, seeing him sit on that couch with big eyes behind dark-rimmed glasses and his extremely soft-looking hair falling just perfectly, he once again wonders why he _should_.

“I’m glad,” Oikawa says quietly and his smile almost looks genuine. They look at each other in silence for a few awkward heartbeats until he sits up a little straighter and fishes the folder from his bag. “Anyway, practice!”

“Right.” That’s why he’s here, after all. It’s about choir. “I have my sheets for _Spica_ —”

“Nope, forget that,” he interrupts him without hesitation while flipping through the pages. “As much as I’d like to sing it with you, we’re not touching that song until just before the concert. I brought some with me, I think this one would be good for the start …”

“Wait, what?” Of course they should do _Spica_. All the other songs are fine, his biggest problem is that godforsaken duet.

There’s no hint of joking in Oikawa’s eyes though when he says, “It’s not the only song you’ll ever sing in your life. How are you supposed to get better if you only ever improve at one very specific thing? That’s not the skill you’ll want to have.”

He has to admit he might have a point. It’s unlikely he’ll get another solo anytime soon, but if he does, he’ll go through the same procedure all over again. But it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before, and with how quickly everything seems to be happening, he just decided it would be the easiest way to get _Spica_ out of the way first and work on his general skills later. Everything else could take up too much time and lead to dissatisfying results.

“So, here.” Oikawa stands up and hands him what seems to be a copy of a relatively short piece. Keiji skims it quickly; it doesn’t look all that difficult to play or sing, it’s simple but could probably be nice if done correctly, and the lyrics, while a bit cheesy, are at least some shade of poetic. He glances at the title: _Remember, darling_.

“A love song,” he states very astutely.

“Not really … It’s pretty ambiguous.”

He narrows his eyes and actually reads over the lyrics again. They seem fairly romantic at first glance, but he supposes they could simply be platonically affectionate, as well, depending on who sung them. He could imagine it being the lullaby of a parent for their child, there’s a strange familiarity in them not unlike the songs his own mother used to sing to him.

(Granted, he usually pretended to fall asleep pretty fast since her singing voice is nothing to write home about, but it’s still a memory he treasures.)

“What do you think is your main problem with _Spica_?”

He raises his head to find Oikawa’s expression neutral. Pensive. Like he’s trying to figure something out that Keiji can come nowhere near understanding yet.

What _is_ his main problem?

“I’m not good at … Expressing myself?” It sounds more like a question than he would have liked, but it’ll have to make do.

“And that,” he answers and points at him, “is where you’re wrong. I’ve seen you play _Crystalline_ back at the practice camp. Incapability’s not the issue here.”

That botched version of the song? Well, he supposes he _was_ really into it, but he doubts that should be his end goal. Still, he tries again. “It’s nothing I can personally connect with?”

Thinking back to that day on the piano, he certainly wasn’t nailing the song’s theme in any way, shape, or form, but he was playing a happier version of it, he thinks, and he felt happy while doing it. But it’s difficult to do that when the mood of the song is something he can’t quite understand. He’s never been in a star-crossed lovers kind of scenario, and certainly not in such an abstract way.

Oikawa hums. “I guess that’s more accurate. I mean, I can’t read your thoughts, but … Anyway, that thought that you have, that ‘I can’t connect with this’ …” He pauses, obviously only for dramatic effect. “You need to eradicate that thought. Actually, get rid of all of that negativity. You’re not very confident, are you?”

Well, he wouldn’t describe himself as such. If anything, he knows his limits, perhaps he’s a bit too careful sometimes but he never saw that as a bad thing.

He sees where he’s coming from, though. It’s a notion of _if you don’t try, you’ll never even know if you can do it_ (quote Bokuto before surfing down the stairs of Fukurodani on a canvas stolen from the art club, breaking a window and scaring the advisors of another school’s basketball team into unconsciousness in the process).

“I don’t know,” is what he winds up saying.

“If we were elsewhere, you’d be good enough for none of this to be necessary.” Oikawa smiles just a bit, and it’s a little intimidating. “However, at Karasuno, it won’t cut it. We’re about to play the opening act for the national orchestra, and we have a reputation to keep up. On a technical level, you’re alright, but don’t underestimate the emotion behind it.”

“I’m not doing that. It’s why you’re here.” He knows all of those things, why rub them in even more? Keiji’s strangely reminded of their first meeting – and he remembers too well how that turned out.

“Singing isn’t just saying some words in a melody,” Oikawa continues on as if he hadn’t said anything. “It’s acting. You’re telling a story with every song, and if you’re not telling it well, people won’t bother listening. Even if they do, nobody’s going to remember. Why would they? If they think you’ve got nothing worthwhile to say, the best-case scenario is that they’ll wait for it to be over, and in worse cases, they’re just going to leave.”

He feels a bit like he should be sitting down with his head low listening to the lecture – it’s very similar to what their director at Fukurodani said after his solo last year. That was something along the lines of, _You were average, but nobody really cared._ Staring at the floor, fiddling with his hands, not daring to look up, all that right now reminds him of it, the same cold, dreadful feeling creeping up his veins.

 _I’m not a particularly good actor_ , he wants to say but doesn’t.

Until warm hands are placed on his own and a light chuckle escapes from Oikawa’s throat.

“But, you know …”

Slowly, he raises his head again, and when their eyes lock, that unwelcome feeling fades.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you have it in you. Something’s blockading you, and I’m going to find out how to break it.”

Perhaps it’s his weariness that makes him believe it.

“Now,” Oikawa calls out, drops his hands and their moment is lost. “Let’s warm up our voices, we won’t want to ruin them, right?”

 

* * *

 

He comes to hate _Remember, darling_. Deeply.

Not because it’s a bad song, it isn’t, but because despite its slow pace, it’s surprisingly catchy, and he’s caught himself humming it involuntarily several times now. The simplistic lyrics don’t help.

“Try crying,” Terushima mumbles with a big rice cracker in his mouth.

Keiji has no idea what he’s doing on his sofa again, especially during their practice session. Who let him in? It must have been Oikawa, except that guy didn’t go to the door once. How does Terushima keep breaking into his apartment?

“Crying would be overkill,” Oikawa counters while fanning himself with his sheet music. The building is air-conditioned, thankfully, but it’s been getting really warm and opening the window is not much of an option when it would just mean letting the hot air inside. “It’s not a sad song.”

“I mean, crying from emotion! Like, a really happy memory. Like that time I found a baby duckling! It was so cute, I actually cried.”

“Oh my god, do you have photos?”

Sometimes he wonders how he keeps attracting people who get along wonderfully like this. Does he have a type? Perhaps.

Their practice session is spontaneously interrupted for oooh-ing and aaah-ing at photos of Terushima’s duckling (that he named Steve), and Keiji can’t help but join in, because damn, he didn’t know ducklings were so cute. As stated before, he’s more of an owl person. He does feel like he’s betraying his kind.

“Anyway, adorable ducklings aside,” Oikawa says after a very long while of scrolling through pictures, “I don’t actually mind you being here, Teru-chan.”

“Well, I do,” Keiji mutters, but neither of them pays him any mind.

“Thanks! Uh, why though?”

The chuckle he receives tells many things, first and foremost that he seems to have an idea, which is never a good sign. “Because you’re good. Really good. Not as good as me, obviously, but still good.”

He’s not wrong – Terushima started strong and while he doesn’t stand out as much as Keiji initially assumed he would, it’s noticeable he’s only getting better. Especially his solo in _HEART_ _↑_ _BEAT_ is just brimming with contagious enthusiasm, a bit like Bokuto’s drum play and their vibe in general. Happiness is also an emotion, he supposes.

Terushima finger-guns at Oikawa sitting next to him. “I get what you mean! But …” For the first time since Keiji has known him, he _sighs_ , like an actual human being that does not transcend the human ideas of emotional exhaustion. “It’s not really something I can _teach_ … It’s just a feeling, y’know? Trust me, I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You have?” He hasn’t said anything about it, hasn’t seemed as if he really thought it was an issue in the first place.

“Yeah,” he says with an unusually serious expression. “I mean, I think you’re just fine, but you don’t look happy with it, so I wanna help you.”

Keiji has to fight the sudden urge to hug him. It would be so easy, too, just lean a bit to the right, wrap his arms around him, and never let go.

He doesn’t deserve a friend like this.

At least, that’s what he thinks until Terushima claps his hands together as his eyes widen in an epiphany, and he says, “Write a song!”

“This again?” Keiji sighs. “Even if I could, I don’t have the time. Besides, don’t you have _#showtime_ already?”

“I think what Teru-chan means is write a song by yourself, for yourself,” Oikawa chimes in. “Or for someone else, whatever works for you. Something that means something to you personally.”

He gets what they’re trying to say – he needs something to connect to and work his way up from there. But … “Can’t I just practice a song that already has meaning to me?”

“Listen, Akaacchi, I know you don’t like it, but sooner or later you’ll have to compose something. You’re studying music. The sooner you practice that, the better, and there go the figurative two birds with one stone.”

“Yes, but I won’t have to do it completely on my own,” he argues. At least not according to what his professors said at the beginning of the semester. “Even Terushima didn’t do that.”

“Yeah, because I can’t play an instrument! You’d totally nail it, ‘kaash.”

That whole thing about a friend he doesn’t deserve? Yes, he takes that back. Now he’s trapped under the stares of four judgemental eyes that, as he reluctantly has to admit, do have some semblance of a point.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” Oikawa says. “The idea isn’t half bad. I think I’ve had the wrong idea all along … So this is worth a try at least.”

“What wrong idea?” Keiji asks but is met with silence.

Instead, Terushima pulls out his phone from his pocket and taps away on the screen furiously. Too furiously, in fact. He’s going to break it at this rate. “I’m gonna send you the tutorial Yahaba and I used!”

Okay, that at least explains _#showtime_ , if only slightly. It must be a very effective tutorial though, if something that good was able to spawn from it.

While he’s busy scrolling, Oikawa smiles at Keiji, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, are you trying it?”

He’s about to say ‘I don’t have much of a choice, do I’ when he remembers something. It might not be the most morally right thing to ask of him, and he’s in hardly any position to make demands right now, but it’s worth a try.

“I am, as long as you promise to help me out with something – or rather, a friend of Semi-san’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's not even bribery anymore, that's just trying to make the best out of the situation. by badly timed bribery.


	17. Above

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's shopping, group hugs, makeshift sports team cheers ... oh and pain. that too. I almost forgot
> 
> the dress part is mostly in there because I want to spread my agenda, that agenda being "absolutely everyone looks cuter in skirts and they should be the norm instead of pants". who let pants become the norm anyway? skirts are better. more comfortable AND more adorable.
> 
> I'm not even gonna say too much considering the sun is rising again and I should be in bed but weLL
> 
> GOOD NIGHT

Time passes by quickly, and he counts the days in crumbled sheets of music paper and hastily finished assignments for class he gets back with notes scribbled in red all over them.

He can’t focus.

That’s nothing new, really; he tends to have some problems with it, but most of the time they’re so light he doesn’t even notice them. Lately, it’s been getting pretty bad though.

So many things are frustrating. It’s frustrating that he’s falling behind in class especially now with their first exams coming up, it’s frustrating that he seems not to be making any progress at all regarding choir, even his unchanging eating schedule with always the same quickly made food is starting to frustrate him. It’s like Keiji has come to a standstill while everything else is moving on around him.

Time passes by quickly, and he hears Mai talking to him about some phone game but can’t listen no matter how hard he tries, his mind occupied by lyrics for a song he has not written for a practice session that has been cancelled for a guy he doesn’t know personally who just has to learn the damn piano.

(At least Oikawa has taken over the burden of Shirabu, and without much whining, too. That’s not to say there was no whining at all, something about how he’s betraying Yahaba, but in the end he wound up doing it anyway, so Keiji doesn’t quite get his point.)

They’re in the mall, looking for outfits to wear to the concert on the too near horizon. Nekomata said they’re going for something classical, and by that he meant for the boys to wear suits and the girls to wear black dresses. It’s like they’re going to a funeral, and that’s a bit how it feels, too.

Despite that, he’s still not nervous. Frustrated, yes, tired, absolutely, but not nervous. After all, even with his problems, he knows their three songs inside-out and surely he won’t fail what he’s done over and over again at rehearsal. There’s no need to be anxious, really.

“Do you know what Rei-chan is wearing?” Mai asks while inspecting the dress hanging in front of her, running her hands over the fabric with furrowed eyebrows. “Since it was said they can wear whatever …”

“A dress, I think.” Meiou Rei, a first year tenor he has never once spoken to and only knows by word of Yumi, is apparently non-binary which led to some questions about the dress code. In the end it was decided they could just wear whatever they felt like, something that seemed to have greatly pissed Mai off.

“I wish I could just decide what I wear,” she mutters and looks at the price tag of the dress, and her frown deepens. “The school should pay for this if they force me in a dress.”

“If you’re feeling uncomfortable, I’m sure Nekomata-san will let you go with a suit. But don’t expect them to be any less expensive.”

In fact, he’s a bit afraid to get to the male section of the clothing store. His wallet is already crying in advance. He could reuse the shirt from his school uniform, sure, but he still needs a jacket and pants and, god forbid, shoes. All in all, they’ll probably have to pay an equal amount.

Mai sighs deeply. “I’m not uncomfortable, dresses are just a pain.”

Honestly, they don’t look like they are. Keiji supposes you could feel a bit exposed in them, but mostly they always seemed comfortable to him, and he likes the look of them. He actually played with the idea of getting a skirt a while back, but in the end figured he probably wouldn’t wear it anyway. It doesn’t go with his usual style (or lack thereof) too much, and since he only ever goes shopping once every blue moon, the thought kind of fell away after a while.

If Mai’s annoyed by dresses, though, she probably has a point as well. He wouldn’t know.

“Dang, the material of this one is so nice, but if I buy it I won’t have money for the shoes …” She seems to be stuck in a dilemma, but Keiji doesn’t know how to help her out of it. He’s going to have a similar problem, he’s sure of it – he should have probably considered this before he joined the choir. At Fukurodani, he could somehow make do with what he already had most of the time, and when he couldn’t, his mother would help him out despite his protests. They never had too much money, so he doesn’t like the idea of asking her for any now – he should have enough, but he’ll have to live off instant ramen for a little while longer.

Well, either that or have someone take him out for dinner. There’s sure to be some rich people in his peer group, considering that they’re at Karasuno. Bokuto’s family is pretty wealthy, but from his understanding, they don’t give him too much beyond what’s necessary, so he’s out. Terushima lives with his parents still, so perhaps him? Or Oikawa, though he doesn’t know anything about how well off he is.

He did buy him that owl necklace, the one that’s sitting under his shirt right now, pressing against his skin. He’s wearing it a lot lately, though Oikawa doesn’t need to know that – it’s pretty, after all, and while he doesn’t usually wear a necklace, it’s a nice feeling, like an extra layer of protection.

“I need to get something for my hair, too …” Mai murmurs and runs a hand through her hair – it’s open today, and honestly, she could probably just leave it like that, it looks perfectly fine. “A ribbon at least … Ugh, you guys have it easy.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘easy’, but you do have a point.” Keiji lets his gaze wander around the section of the store for a bit – there are more dresses than anyone would ever have the patience to sort through, and they all seem to be rather expensive. Then again, they’ll probably reuse this attire several times, so it’s not as bad of an investment as it might seem.

Mai hums and they’re silent for a while as she turns to another display of similar looking black dresses, occasionally cocking her head at some. “I wish we were done with this already, so we can finally have the concert.”

That’s right – this is pretty much the last thing to do aside from their usual practice before the concert, and he really did not need that reminder. “Are you looking forward to it?” he asks and hopes she won’t ask him the same thing.

Her face lights up at that, as if she’d just been waiting for him to ask. “Absolutely! We’re gonna be out there like the national orchestra, that’s so amazing! I can’t wait to blow them all away with our duet. Let’s kick some ass!”

“Let’s,” he replies with the most genuine smile he can manage right now.

‘Kicking ass’ is perhaps a bit too much to ask for, though. He’ll be happy if sounds at least somewhat decent, that’s all he’s asking for right now. Honestly, he doesn’t even particularly care about what the people think of his performance other than that it wasn’t absolutely horrendous.

He should aim higher, he knows that. But as it stands, that’s something for another time.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa is not happy with that sentiment.

“What about your song?” he asks, the familiar pout on his face. “I know it takes time, but you have at least an idea, right?”

Oh, he does. Several dozens, in fact, all of which ended up in the trashcan sooner or later. “I don’t think that really matters right now.”

‘Right now’ being one day before the concert in their choir room. Oikawa managed to snatch it for today, and usually, Keiji would be happy about the opportunity to play on that grand piano, but today it looms in front of him like a monster, ready to swallow up the rest of his scarce self-confidence for tomorrow. Even brushing his fingers over the keys as usual doesn’t help, no matter how familiar the situation is, him sitting on the piano stool and pretending like he knows what he’s doing.

“If you’re not taking this seriously, then there’s no need for any of it. But you should.”

“I know, I just haven’t had much time.” It’s not a lie. He has been working on it in most of his free time, but there hasn’t been much of that, in between rehearsal and practice and studying.

The pout fades for a worried expression. “Are you holding up alright? I remember first year exams being brutal.”

“I am.” _Just barely_ , is what he doesn’t add. It doesn’t matter. His straight-A student days from high school may be over, but as long as he passes, he’s still good.

“If you have any problems, I’ll see if I can help you out. The rest of us too. We probably wouldn’t have survived last year without the help of our senpai, so it’s just fair to return the favour.”

“I appreciate it, but I hope I won’t need it.” He’s not against the idea of asking for help, but if he can, he’d prefer to pass this on his own. Both because it would feel like giving up and he won’t have that, and because he can’t rely on other people to help him forever. Someday there’ll be no upperclassmen to teach him.

“Akaacchi …” Something about how he says that makes Keiji flinch, and for once he’s glad he’s given him that stupid nickname, because if it had been his actual name, it would have been … Much more personal. The hands resting on his shoulders as Oikawa towers over him and Keiji stares at the keys of the piano that all fade into one another after a while don’t help. “I get trying to do everything by yourself, but trust me when I say that you really shouldn’t.”

“Is that another one of those things where I remind you of someone?”

“Nope, just personal experience. I almost failed out of school last year.”

That doesn’t sound right. Oikawa always seems like he’s on top of things, surely he’s just saying this to influence him somehow. The thought of him failing out of school is so bizarre he can’t quite wrap his head around it.

“I swear, if you’re taking on anything you can’t handle, I’m chaining you to the desk and get Kuro-chan and Dai-chi and we’ll teach you everything you have to know. You won’t even have a choice. You’ll pass, if you want to or not! But before that …” He clears his throat and takes his hands off Keiji’s shoulders again. “ _Spica_. Let’s do it.”

“Mai isn’t here,” he remarks.

“But I am. Have you already forgotten it was originally a tenor part? I have it down pat.” He sounds incredibly smug at that fact, and Keiji does have to wonder why he would even have learned it. There are many more things that likely require his attention. Practicing for a duet he doesn’t sing in sounds a lot like a waste of time.

Besides, is he implying he’s going to sing this duet from a love song with Keiji?

He knows it’s for practice and he shouldn’t overthink it, but none of this is particularly helping his confusion about their relationship. And how is he supposed to concentrate on getting his part right anyway if he’s singing with Oikawa? Sure, by now he’s more used to him, but his voice is still nothing short of breathtaking, and he pities everyone who has to outshine him on a stage. It’ll be a miracle if he’ll even manage to open his mouth.

He knew that, though, didn’t he?

“Ha,” Oikawa whispers suddenly and Keiji turns around to see a very self-satisfied grin on his face. “Now I’m getting to sing it with your piano play after all.”

Keiji needs a moment to remember what the heck he’s talking about – their encounter in the practice room the day he got assigned the duet part has almost slipped his mind, but now that he’s reminded of it, he can’t get it out of his head.

He asked him to teach him how to play the violin back then, but considering he never brought it up again, it probably wasn’t important. And then … He said that Nekomata might want a duet with them sometime.

Maybe he _should_ do this. Well, he doesn’t have much of a choice anyway, but maybe that’s a good thing. He’ll have to get used to it sooner or later if he keeps getting grouped with singers as spectacular as Oikawa or Mai. It’s like Nekomata wants him to fail.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” he jokes but it doesn’t come across as playful as he would have liked. Most of his words have lost their impact these last few days, and he can’t help but think he just wants all of this to be over already so he can go back to the regularly scheduled suffering.

“Oh no, you found me out!” Oikawa laughs, but it doesn’t sound genuine. “And here I thought my strategy was perfect. Will you still play for me?”

“Why are you asking that like I have a choice?”

“I mean, you can still run and pretend none of this ever happened.” His smile drops. “Why are you stalling though?”

He didn’t even realise he was.

Keiji takes a slow, deep breath and shakes his head to clear his mind, but it doesn’t really work. “I’m sorry. I can’t concentrate.”

“Don’t be,” Oikawa says and reaches out to touch him but he stands up from the piano chair and steps to the side a bit, just enough to get distance between them. Oikawa doesn’t follow him, and he wonders if the strange feeling in his gut is because he wanted him to.

“I don’t think this is going to work today. Tomorrow will be fine, and we’ll see what will happen after that.”

“Your choice. But now you owe me ice cream for coming all the way here.”

Keiji turns around and frowns at him. “You literally live on campus.”

“Eh, could have worked,” Oikawa says and shrugs. “Anyway, you do you. But then don’t come running back to me when you realise you aren’t enough for yourself.”

It’s like he can read his mind and frankly, it’s a bit scary sometimes.

“Sorry for wasting your time,” he mutters before gathering his sheet music, all too aware of the gaze lingering on him as he heads for the door.

Just when he’s about to step out of the room into the heavy, warm summer air, he hears Oikawa’s voice again. “Akaacchi.”

Did he forget anything? When he turns back at him, just a bit, his smile looks a little sad.

“Don’t worry about tomorrow. You’ll be great.”

 

* * *

 

He didn’t know what he expected of their venue, but a high school wasn’t it.

Apparently, this whole concert is for charity, and this school, a really rich private school with more money than they can spend, just went and bought the damn national orchestra of Japan to hold it. The principal of Fukurodani would have probably cried at the idea of even watching a recording of the orchestra, and here those guys are and just buy the whole thing to perform in their admittedly fancy auditorium. The world is a strange, strange place.

Nekomata left them in the dark until they got here, and he can kind of see why. Honestly, he knows some people who would have probably just not come, that’s how ridiculous this is.

Even their dressing rooms are classrooms, with the desks and chairs moved to the sides so they have enough place to warm up their voices and change into their suits. He thinks he’s heard that there are actual dressing rooms, but in another building, so this is faster.

It feels a lot like their concerts at Fukurodani, and while some others are complaining, he can’t help but feel a bit more at home than he originally assumed he would.

“I think we should have a unisex changing room,” Terushima says with an expression similar to that of someone who is trying to negotiate with a politician over topics that are marginally more important than unisex changing rooms.

“You’re only saying that because you want to see the girls in underwear,” Futakuchi snarks from a few meters away.

Terushima shakes his head though. “That’s not it! I mean, yeah, I wanna see the girls in underwear, but I get to see the guys in underwear and that’s already enough for me.”

“Why am I friends with you again?” Keiji murmurs, his eyes trained on his shirt as he’s buttoning it up and absolutely not trying to avoid looking at Oikawa shirtless on the other side of the room, thank you very much.

(Listen, he _cannot_ be blamed. Some bodies just demand to be admired.)

“Because,” Terushima starts and hits him on the head with a rolled up magazine he found on a table earlier, “I’m awesome. People are naturally drawn to me.”

Someone in the corner of the room shouts, “Yeah, like a car accident! It’s terrible, but you can’t look away.” How he even heard Terushima say that over the noise of people talking and several meters away, Keiji does not know, but what he does know is that he finds himself agreeing.

After a few minutes, the girls join them so that they can all gather around the piano and warm up. Nekomata doesn’t say a lot – no motivational speech, no quick tips, no reminders for certain parts, and somehow that’s more reassuring than if he had. The silence, save for the quick run-over of the program, seems to say, ‘You’ve got this.’

Their meeting is brief before they’re ushered backstage, with only the heavy dark blue stage curtain hiding the muttering audience from them, and it’s like all the nervousness he hasn’t felt up until now comes crashing down right onto him.

His heart is thumping against his chest and he’s fidgeting with his hands in an attempt not to start shaking, but to no avail. It’s nothing palpable, no images of what could go wrong spreading before his eyes, not the sound of laughter at him resounding in his ears, but rather an abstract, completely senseless feeling that quickly overshadows everything else, until he sees everything in front of them but doesn’t register a thing—

And then someone crashes into him from the side and he’s wrapped into a very uncomfortable side hug.

“Don’t you dare get nervous now!” Terushima says as loudly as he can without the school staff murdering them for disrupting the silence before the concert.

Mai’s face lights up when she sees them and she quickly hurries over with a whispered “group hug!” before she almost jumps at them to join in on their spontaneous embrace.

They stay like that for a moment and when they’re like this, stage fright doesn’t stand a chance.

Mai is the one who lets go first and Keiji realises that she, too, is shaking, if for a completely different reason. Her grin is so wide he’s a bit afraid it’ll leave lasting scars, and despite the complicated updo of her hair and the black, poofy dress worthy of being worn in a high class casino, she looks a lot like a giddy schoolgirl on her last lesson before vacation. It’s not all that contagious through the fog of nervousness, but it does help shine a light, until his heart rate slows to a less life-threatening pace.

When Terushima finally frees him from the hug, he hops to the side a bit so that they’re standing in a triangle and reaches out for the space in the middle of them with his hand. “Let’s do a cheer, like a sports team!”

“We’re not a sports team,” Keiji says but reaches out anyway, and soon enough Mai’s hand is on his as well, ready to pump them up with something motivational … Except after a moment they realise they’re completely silent.

“Uh,” she mutters. “What now?”

“Should we just say ‘let’s go’?” Terushima proposes, but Keiji shoots him a sceptical glance.

“That generic?”

“If you have a better idea, go for it, ‘kaash, I’m all ears.”

“All ears would be really impractical. I mean, we’re going to sing,” Mai scoffs.

“That would be a good cheer. ‘We’re going to sing.’”

“You’re just describing the facts,” Keiji responds, and before Terushima can come up with anything else, Nekomata calls them together to get in formation.

The stage is simple and broad, with the back line standing on a pedestal but otherwise no fancy details that would impact their performance. Both Keiji and Mai are on the front line, so it won’t matter at all when they switch positions for their duet, and none of their songs are really choreography-heavy, although Misaki has made it clear she’s going to change that down the line.

He’s grateful for Terushima essentially dragging him to their position because it means at least a bit of distraction when that comfort from a moment ago evaporates into nothing again.

This is common. Normal, even. He knew exactly that this would happen because it always does, whether he’s playing an instrument or singing. He saw it coming from a mile away, but by god, he’d have preferred weeks of being unable to sleep because of dread and nervousness over this punch in the gut at the very last moment.

It’s three more minutes of overly controlled breathing and fixing his already immaculate collar and sneaking glances at the people around him to find something, anything to hold on to, but there’s no calm to be found in the too tense air.

(It looked so easy back at the entrance ceremony, he thinks. How did they do it then?)

He never gets an answer, and the curtain is drawn back slowly to reveal an auditorium much bigger than any school should have, packed full with important looking people in suits and dresses not unlike their own, and the lights are positioned in a way that they almost blind him enough to not see any of it in the first place.

Keiji can thank a combination of years of experience, a somewhat decent personality, and common sense for not making a run for it.

Shouldn’t their first concert be something small? A number in a nursery home, perhaps, or at the local city festival nobody ever goes to. This seems too large in scale to befit them as they are right now, especially him, who never should have come here in the first place.

He barely even registers bowing to the crowd and the notes of the first song being played on the piano.

 _Spica_.

Why are they starting with that again? Couldn’t they have switched around the order, place it in the middle where nobody really gives a damn?

At least rehearsal has properly conditioned him into starting to sing even if he doesn’t know what exactly is happening. It’s an almost mechanical process, one he doesn’t have to think about because he’s done it so many times before, and fading into the background among so many singers is so easy it’s almost fun to some extent.

That’s always what he’s done best, after all.

Their movement is stiff, or maybe it’s just his own, but there’s so little of it that it doesn’t really matter, he supposes. As long as he can stay right here, nothing at all matters, their sound is nice and clear and as professional as it should be, their skill and practice shining through, they probably even look decent but what does he knows, he’s not watching it from the outside.

It’s … Comfortable.

That’s exactly why he almost messes up at the beginning of the last chorus before their duet, but he catches himself quickly enough that his little timing mistake probably won’t have been noticed in the grand scheme of things.

What they do notice are his steps forward, in the same rhythm as Mai’s in his peripheral vision.

She’s probably having a blast right now.

Five more measures until Mai’s first line and the spotlight slowly shifts to them, burning his skin with the heat of a million suns.

Four, they start turning toward each other slowly, and he blinks but her face is blurry and he can’t tell what she’s feeling.

Three, the beautiful array of voices continues singing, but the rushing in his ears is threatening to overpower them.

Two, the song his mind jumps to isn’t _Spica_ , but _Crystalline_ , and he almost wants to laugh at those damn star motives that just remind him of the planetarium and that one rehearsal where he thought he was actually improving somehow.

One, he frantically repeats his lyrics in his head until they become a jumbled mess of words he doesn’t recognise.

Zero.

“ _The road they’ve gone, hands linked …_ ”

If this was a movie, someone in the back would jump in now. Terushima, perhaps, or Oikawa, or Sawamura, or someone he hasn’t even considered up until now but who proves they’re very capable of handling things.

But this is not a movie, and what they’re left with is silence.

Complete and utter silence only filled by quiet murmuring from the audience and his own mind shouting at him to do something, do _anything_ , but it feels like he’s never going to be able to ever again.

He doesn’t remember much of the rest, only Mai switching to sing his parts as well to make up for it, him awkwardly merging back into the group, and two more songs of complete and utter torture under judgemental eyes from all possible and impossible directions that feel like years rather than minutes and then they bow and the first thing he does when they leave the stage

is _run_.

Someone calls out for him but he doesn’t even recognise the voice, he just needs to get _away_ , it doesn’t matter where, just somewhere where nobody can find him and nobody will look for him and he can come back out when they’ve all forgotten about it so that means never and honestly, he’s okay with it, and eventually he finds the open door to an empty classroom and under a desk pressed against the cool wall seems like as good a place as any right now.

His breathing is erratic, his nails dig into the palm of his hand but it doesn’t stop the shaking, the image of standing on that stage with no purpose and no plan and no damn right to be there won’t leave his mind and someone’s calling his name again, why on earth would they follow him, why on earth would anybody care? This might as well get him kicked out of the choir, heck, all of Karasuno, if he’s ever proven he’s good for absolutely nothing on his own then this was it—

“Akaacchi!”

A familiar voice from the door, and all he can think is _no, not him, anyone but him_ , but no words come out, just like up there, so he can only stare at the ground and listen to hectic steps come closer until he’s next to him on the floor and a hand is pulling his away from the skin he was scratching at. “Akaacchi … Akaashi, look at me. Look at me, Keiji.”

Another hand, this time on his cheek, turning his head gently but forcefully until he has no choice but to comply, and then it drops only to rest on his lower arm. “Calm down … Try to breathe. In through the nose and then out through the mouth … Follow along with me, okay?”

Following his pattern is still a challenge, but a bit easier than if he was doing it by himself, long breaths, over and over again until he can do it by himself, still shaky but not as all over the place as before, and his shaking has calmed a bit too, though it hasn’t eased entirely. Something’s cutting through the images in his mind, just enough to look through it, and when he’s wrapped into a tight embrace, he doesn’t fight it.

They stay like that for a long time.

“Everyone’s worried about you,” Oikawa whispers after a while, and Keiji buries his face in his shoulder.

“They probably hate me.” The words come out muffled against the fabric of his suit jacket, which he’s definitely ruining right now that tears are finally starting to form in his eyes.

“Of course not, but Teru-chan’s going to cry if he can’t make sure you’re okay, and I’m pretty sure Mai-chan would kick your butt if that happened. Also, Dai-chi looked like he was going to kill me for running after you. That’s my fault, of course, but still.”

“Why did you come then?” He’s not sure he wants to hear the reason, he can’t deal with more of this, just let him have this, god damn it, but the questions is out before he can stop himself.

Oikawa hums and gently combs through Keiji’s hair. “Can I tell you a secret?” He doesn’t wait until he can answer, though. “Last year, at our final concert of the semester, in front of everyone and tons of important people … I had a solo, and I totally blew it. I mean absolutely. Forgot the lyrics for the first part, and when I remembered them again I forgot about a key change and ended up completely off-pitch.”

It sounds so surreal, and yet he wants to believe him.

“You’re not the first person who screwed up, and you won’t be the last. I know it hurts like hell though, so I don’t blame you for panicking. Just don’t do what I did, okay?”

“What did you do?” Keiji whispers and receives an airy laugh.

“Uh … Yelled at our director, got in a fight with almost all of the fourth years, and then when I somehow redeemed myself I practiced so much with a musical group at the theatre on top of choir and my usual workout that I passed out several times until Iwa-chan punched me for it and gave me a whole lecture about how I’m a complete idiot for being so selfish. And you don’t want to be punched by Iwa-chan, trust me. Although it _is_ a pretty good way to clear your mind …”

Somehow, he can see _that_ happen though.

It’s Oikawa who breaks the embrace first, and he finds he misses the warmth even among the summer heat. “Come on, let’s go. I promise it’ll be fine. Again, just don’t do what I did …”

He can only nod and let himself be pulled up from under the desk, and his legs feel a bit unstable but it’s okay when he’s next to him and there’s an arm wrapped around his waist, steadying him.

That touch doesn’t leave, not when they’re leaving the classroom and not when they find themselves in a poorly lit hallway with absolutely no idea where they are, so they run around for a few minutes until they find the way back.

Amidst all of this madness, there’s one thought crystal clear in Keiji’s mind, and he hates himself a bit for letting it rip through the more important things.

Maybe he can allow himself to fall in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's not even the cheesiest line I have planned for this.


	18. There Be Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome to the chapter that is longer than the carnival date because it was supposed to end 2k earlier but I couldn't find a place to cut it so I just kinda. kept going. and going. and gOIN G
> 
> (nobody stop me)
> 
> I half miss sleepovers with my friends and am half glad I'm not doing them anymore because I get very cranky when I'm tired and everyone suffers, pff. also I strongly advise you not to share a bed meant for two people at most with three people because someone /will/ get injured
> 
> I'm with Mai on favourite Disney movies by the way. I saw the musical version two months ago and I still get emotional everytime I remember it it's sO GOOD
> 
> also I'm sorry if there's anything wrong with the latter part grammar-wise because somehow I can't craft an actual sentence today but apparently I still had to write 1k5 words without a break because fuck logic, that's why
> 
> something big happens ................. something big. and burnt toast. The Daily Suffering Of Akaashi Keiji continues
> 
> I'm probably? maybe? perhaps? gonna write some oneshots to go with this fic soon! there's one Mai scene I really want to write but Keiji isn't in it so I'll have to work around it, and I wanna give some more focus to the Terufuta drama and maybe shed some light on Kenma, and Kiyoko ... and Shirabu ... aaaaaaa

The orchestra is hard to overhear as they walk down the stairs slowly, toward where the rest of the choir is standing and watching them play, eyes fixed on the stage.

His heart is still racing, pounding against his chest in an erratic rhythm, but it’s a bit easier with that hand still on his waist and that warm body still next to him a little closer than absolutely necessary. It’s likely to calm him down rather than out of sheer affection, but he can’t help relishing in it nonetheless.

“Careful, Akaacchi,” Oikawa mutters and Keiji is about to ask why when he almost trips over seemingly nothing. A quick glance to the ground reveals an awkwardly sized step that has no business being as small as it is, and he silently curses whomever built this school. Who thought this was a good design choice?

“Now it’s ‘Akaacchi’ again, huh,” he murmurs, mostly to distract from his near fall there.

“It’s a cute nickname!”

“I don’t mind it, I just noticed.” Well, he’d still prefer to be called by his actual name rather than too many different nicknames by too many different people, but he doesn’t hate it. If anything, it’s a small annoyance he can’t be particularly bothered by at the moment. “You said ‘Akaashi’ earlier, and …”

‘Keiji’. Probably just a slip of the tongue in a hasty situation, but he does have to wonder how it came to be. Or was it some sort of tactic, using a familiar first name to soften the situation a bit?

Whatever it was, he liked the sound of it.

They stand there for a while, watching the orchestra play but he hardly even listens, as the drumbeats in his head slowly fade for a warm, soft silence. He’ll have to treasure it, since he knows it won’t stay for long.

After what feels like an eternity, he hears Oikawa’s voice next to him, so soft it’s almost a whisper drowned out by whatever song it is they’re playing right now. “What do you want me to call you?”

He takes a shaky breath, feeling a bit nervous and, perhaps, a little daring, too.

(What bad could come out of it? The implications are somewhat … Questionable, but it’s only a name.)

“Just use my first name,” he says and finds he doesn’t regret it as much as he thought he would.

Maybe – just maybe – the arm around his waist pulls him just the tiniest bit closer. “Then you have to use mine too.”

Calling anyone by first name is strange – maybe not girls, but definitely boys, and most certainly boys older than him. He can deal with being called by his, since he’s younger and his kouhai and it’s Oikawa, who called Sawamura Dai-chi and such dumb stuff, but vice-versa? It’s a big step.

The word feels strange in his mouth before he even speaks it. “Tooru-san …”

“Ditch the ‘san’!” Oikawa – _Tooru_ – whines as if it truly mattered. “It’s Keiji and Tooru, just that. No need for formalities.”

That strange feeling rises in his stomach once again, and he’s suddenly very close to backing out and saying it won’t work like that after all, but he feels he doesn’t really have the right to be scared right now. As long as he doesn’t get his hopes up too high, he’ll be just fine.

Now his heart only needs to realise that. Where even is that supposed maximum of hope he can let himself have before it gets ugly?

When they’re like this, he might be overestimating it a bit.

“Tooru, then.”

He gains an appreciative hum and for the second time today, he’s getting the feeling he’s genuinely screwed.

 

* * *

 

The person running toward him with tears in their eyes isn’t Terushima.

“Aka-kun!” Mai essentially screams over the schoolyard and dashes toward him with the speed of your average Olympic sprinter before throwing herself at him in a hug that would have sent him flying backward if it hadn’t been for their difference in size. “I swear to god, I hate you! You can’t just run off like that, do you know how worried I was? I thought you were the emotionally stable friend! I fucking hate you, you …” She sniffs and weakly hits him on the back awkwardly without letting go. “You idiot!”

Keiji doesn’t really know what to do – out of everyone, the last person he would have expected to be this emotional was Mai, at least in this way. He thought she’d just not look at him for a week or so.

The fact that she’s making a scene doesn’t really bother him; they’re in a fairly lonely spot and most of the others have already left, although some are still around, including Terushima, who’s standing at the side with an unusually pained expression, and Nekomata, who is watching them from afar. He just wishes she’d let him go eventually so he can explain himself … If there even is anything to explain.

He just screwed up, simple as that.

As it is now, he’s simply raising a hand to her head to awkwardly pat it in lack of better options, all under the stares of several people. Oikawa— Tooru’s especially is weighing heavily on him, but for once it has nothing to do with Keiji personally. He hasn’t forgotten Mai’s feelings about him.

“Just so you know, I’m totally staying at your place tonight,” she mutters, her words muffled against the fabric of his suit. “And so is Teru-kun.”

“I don’t think I have enough space for that,” is the first thing he manages to say.

“We’ll make it work somehow. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a request, I’m not going to leave you alone no matter how much you protest.”

He can hardly argue with that, and something about the whole situation is making him tear up again, though this time it’s not because of what was probably a panic attack, but rather the sheer forcefulness in her voice and the way she’s clinging to him.

That friendship he saw on Tooru’s photo on Instagram – maybe he has that too.

“Uhm,” someone says and when he looks up, blinking through his tears, he sees Terushima slowly stroll toward them. “You okay?”

There’s genuine concern displayed in both his expression and his voice, and he looks like he’s been crying, and they’ve probably all been crying and it’s all Keiji’s fault.

He turned what was supposed to be an exciting evening into an absolute disaster.

He’s not delusional enough to believe he won’t get any flack for it at all. Nekomata could very well give his part to someone else, and he knows there’s going to be people much less forgiving than his two best friends or Tooru. While he’s calmed down considerably, the prospect of going to rehearsal after everything that happened still scares him out of his mind.

But right now, the small, insignificant feeling that it might be alright after all is making it a bit easier to bear.

“As okay as it gets,” he murmurs and manages a shaky smile. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be!” Mai says but it’s muffled and doesn’t really sound like an actual sentence.

He should be.

They don’t talk a lot, Nekomata dismisses him quickly and tells him they’ll talk about it after next rehearsal – one more reason not to look forward to it. Mai still hasn’t let him go, clinging to him like her life depends on it, with Terushima having regained some semblance of enthusiasm as he’s walking next to them.

Keiji wants to say goodbye to Tooru before they head for the train station, but all they manage to do is exchange glances and small waves. It’s probably for the best – with everything that happened today, he doesn’t trust himself to say anything else. He’ll just text him later.

The walk to the small station nearby isn’t that far, and somewhere along the way, Mai finally lets go of him, which is much appreciated. When standing there and waiting for their train, it almost feels like any other day when Mai goes home to her parents, but their silence is uncomfortable and filled with unspoken words none of them dare say.

That is, until Terushima speaks up. “So. Disney movie marathon?”

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?” The clock at the station shows 8:53 PM, so if they start now, it’ll get late. It’s a Sunday, too, so there’s school tomorrow … Unless they plan on skipping class, which sounds tempting enough, but isn’t something he’d normally do. He _could_ argue he deserves to wallow in self-pity for a bit … But that’s not necessarily true. Sure, he feels bad, but it was nobody’s fault but his own.

“It is never,” Terushima argues, waving his index finger around in front of Keiji’s face, “too late for _The Little Mermaid_.”

“Uhm, excuse me, the best Disney movie is _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ ,” Mai jumps in with a very offended tone of voice. “Isn’t it, Aka-kun?”

“I suppose … Out of these two I prefer _The Hunchback_ , but … _Treasure Planet_.”

It’s been a while since he’s last seen it, but he still remembers it fondly as one of those movies he’d watch over and over again as a kid until his mother got sick of hearing him recite it word-for-word at any given opportunity. He doesn’t have any DVDs or BluRays at his apartment though, and no digital copies or streaming services either.

“Acceptable,” Mai and Terushima answer in unison and burst into laughter not soon after, attracting the attention of everyone at the train station. Keiji wants to tell them to quiet down, but frankly, he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t usually like the thought of people staying over, but he thinks a sleepover with the two of them could be just the type of stupid fun he needs right now.

 

* * *

 

“It’s so stupid,” Mai mumbles in between bites of popcorn. “Why would Ariel give up her voice for a guy? Why can’t the guy give up his voice for her, if it’s so important? A voice like that shouldn’t go to waste. Screw this movie.”

They’re huddled together on his sofa, Keiji and Mai leaning against either side of Terushima in the middle. It took them a while to find a comfortable position, but now it’s not half bad.

“It’s an act of true love!” Terushima insists and steals some popcorn from her bowl, earning an offended gasp.

“She doesn’t even know him,” Keiji throws in with an eyebrow raised at the screen. “They literally haven’t talked once. She just thought he’s pretty. I get she wanted to go to the surface anyway, but they could have given her a better motivation. It’s pretty weak from a storytelling standpoint.”

“Yeah, it’s irrational,” Mai says, but Terushima shakes his head.

“Love isn’t rational! Sometimes it just hits you and then you do stupid stuff for the guy. It’s _romantic_.”

“You don’t fall in love with someone that easily. What she has right now is infatuation, not love.”

“That’s funny, coming from the guy who joined a choir because he thought the soloist was neat.”

“That had nothing to do with why I stayed.” Granted, it _has_ been Tooru’s solo that had Terushima consider dragging him there, and it _has_ been their argument that prompted him to stay, but he thinks he’s exaggerating it a bit.

“Okay, I can’t follow anymore.” Mai side-eyes them sceptically.

“You don’t need to anyway. Terushima is blowing it out of proportion.”

“Sure, keep telling that to yourself— See? See, Prince Eric likes her too!” Keiji wouldn’t normally by happy about a movie interrupting what his friend was trying to say, but he does feel quite thankful for it right now. He’s not particularly interested in a discussion about Tooru at the moment – this is _their_ Disney marathon, damn it.

The two of them keep arguing about whether or not _The Little Mermaid_ is actually a good movie and he tunes out the conversation after a while, since he doesn’t have much of an opinion on it anyway. He will still defend his earlier point though. There’s a difference between love at first sight and … Whatever _that_ is.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and when he checks the screen, it’s glowing with a message from Tooru. _got home safely?_

Right, he completely forgot to text him like he planned; his friends kind of took over everything he did so it slipped his mind. With a smile and a soft, warm feeling fluttering in his chest, he sends back, _I did, thank you. And I didn’t get to say goodbye earlier, so see you tomorrow._

_see you tomorrow, Keiji!_

He thinks reading the name feels a lot different than hearing him say it, and he prefers the latter.

(That still won’t get him to calling him though. Nothing could ever drag him into voluntarily calling anyone but his mother. How do people do it?)

 _Kiss the Girl_ is currently playing on the TV and Mai is mumbling something about how it’s not even a well-constructed song, which he finds himself disagreeing with. Terushima seems to be on his side, judging by his gasp.

“How dare you say that? It’s a classic!”

“ _Part of Your World_ is a classic, this one’s forgettable,” she argues. “It’s the weakest song in the movie and the line-up isn’t even that strong. Compare that to _Hunchback_ ’s songs.”

“Powerful masterpieces … And _A Guy Like You_ ,” he mutters, more to himself. If they’d kept those gargoyles out of the movie, it might be higher up his list, but giving them a song, even? Unacceptable.

She takes a deep breath to shoot something back at him, but eventually just sighs. “Touché.”

“Though to be fair, we could all write better stuff than Disney,” Terushima says with a proud huff. “They should hire us.”

“I’ve never written a song in my life,” Keiji deadpans, although he does get points for trying.

“Same here. How did you do it?”

“With lots of enthusiasm and some outside help, you know that!” Well, he has a point. If they all work together, maybe get Semi on board again, they could actually make … Something. Probably not for choir anymore, but for themselves, just to have it. Without the pressure, it almost sounds nice.

Eventually, their attention is turned back to the screen, and Keiji and Mai argue for a while about which movie they should watch next until Terushima just puts on _Beauty and the Beast_ without either of them noticing until it starts. After that, the films start blending into one another, and at some point he isn’t able to tell anymore what they’re watching and they collectively decide (read: he orders them) to go to bed.

That in itself is already an issue though, since he still has no extra futon or air mattress or … Anything, really.

“We can just share the bed, right?” Mai asks while measuring it with her hands. “Should be big enough.”

“For two, maybe, but all three of us?” he argues. “Someone’s going to fall off.”

Terushima shakes his head and lays down, making clear he isn’t planning on moving anytime soon. “Oh, c’mon, don’t worry about that. We’ll just huddle together!”

“You do realise it’s summer, right?” Does he want them to overheat? Knowing Terushima, he probably wouldn’t even mind, for himself at least. If anyone here is likely to survive dangerous temperatures, it’s him. Keiji has this theory that he’s also the type to not wear a jacket in the coldest winter, something he’ll be able to confirm or deny when that time comes. He would much prefer that time being now, to be honest – his apartment isn’t too hot, but the weather forecast said something about more than 30 degrees tomorrow.

“Aka-kuuun!” Mai whines and jumps down next to Terushima, leaving only Keiji staring down at his friends and their poor life choices. “It’s not like there’s much of a choice! And why have a sleepover if you don’t all lie together and tell ghost stories and stuff like that?”

Not much of a choice indeed. This may be his apartment, but he’s clearly not in charge here. With a sigh, he accepts his fate and lays down as well, shoving Terushima out of the way.

His bed may be big enough for two people, but he was right – three is a lot. In fact, he’s a bit afraid he actually will roll off sooner or later, and he’s the only one in danger as well, with Mai being protected by what’s left of the sofa’s backrest and Terushima lying safely in between them.

It’s also majorly uncomfortable. Since he has to pay attention not to fall off, he’s lying in an awkward position that nobody could ever sleep in, and he knows for a fact Terushima’s snoring will only be one factor leading to a sleepless night; he can already imagine getting elbowed in the face more than once.

Despite that, though, he can’t help a soft giggle. This is a sleepover indeed. Probably with little to no sleep, but isn’t that kind of the point of a sleepover anyway?

“So, uh …” Mai whispers after a moment of silence. “Are we sleeping now?”

“I thought we were,” Keiji whispers back. The only reply from Terushima is a snore, so that answers one question at least. They quietly laugh to each other.

“Guess we are, huh. Well, good night, Aka-kun, Teru-kun … Do you think he can hear me?”

“Not really, no. He seems to be completely out.”

“That’s so admirable … Teach me your ways, Teru-kun …” She yawns and pulls the one blanket they all share closer to her, dragging it away from Keiji in the process. Normally he’d complain, but it’s already warm enough, so he doesn’t mind too much.

Silence settles over them yet again, but he feels like there’s still one thing left to say. If the two of them hadn’t forced themselves on him today, he’d probably be sitting here on his own, overthinking and hating himself for what happened. Instead, they had fun, so much so that he almost forgot about the concert for a moment.

“Thank you, Mai.”

She sighs contently. “Don’t mention it. What are friends for? I’m just happy you didn’t apologise again, and by the way, if you do, I’ll hit you. And …” Mai pauses, and he can’t see her face with Terushima hiding it but he thinks it might be a somewhat bitter smile. “Ah, forget it. Now really though, good night.”

What was she about to say? He’s curious, but he’s also growing more tired by the second until his eyes fall shut all on their own. “Good night,” he mutters, and despite the heat, the snoring, and the uncomfortable position, sleep quickly drags him into oblivion.

 

* * *

 

He wakes up on the floor to a backache and the smell of something burning.

Keiji blinks several times to get rid of the blurriness the world is glazed over with, then rubs his eyes and sits up, rubbing his back to no avail. _God_ , this was a bad idea.

When he looks around, Mai is still asleep on the bed, lying in the middle with her arms and legs spread out to completely claim the place, and someone – probably Terushima – is making a lot of noise in the kitchen.

Judging from the smell, he tried to cook something and failed utterly, and he’s a bit afraid to go looking but he does have to make sure his apartment building won’t burn down, so it’s not like he has much of a choice.

He tries saying “what are you doing” to a very hectic Terushima handling his toaster as if it was alien technology nobody has ever seen before, but his voice hasn’t quite woken up yet so it comes out as a mumbled mess. For some reason, he still understands him, it seems.

“Toast! I think. I mean, it was supposed to be toast. I guess it still is toast, actually. Just burned toast …”

“Toast,” he repeats dryly.

“That’s what you do, right? Make toast? My friends in high school and I did it when we had sleepovers, at least.” He pushes another piece of toast into the toaster, eyeing it sceptically. “Okay, maybe just my friends. Bobata was great at making toast.”

“I wasn’t aware that there’s skill involved in toasting,” Keiji says and it almost sounds like an actual sentence. At least a glance at the clock reveals they have more than enough time until he has to leave for class – from the looks of it, his body is so used to his schedule by now that he wakes up early even when he went to sleep late.

“Have you never watched a cooking show before? Of course there’s skill involved!”

He decides not to question him any further. What does he know after all; he usually gets his breakfast from the cafeteria when he has the time, and Terushima in the short time he’s been here has probably used his toaster more than Keiji has ever since he got it.

“I’ll go brush my teeth, please don’t burn my kitchen.”

Terushima gives him an unconvincing thumbs-up. “I’m gonna wake up Mai while the toast is toasting!”

He wonders if that’s such a good idea, but he has a feeling he’s not going to be listened to anyway, so he just nods.

After all, complaining about this situation would just feel like nitpicking. It’s the first time he’s done a sleepover in his life, and his friends may sometimes be a bit of a trainwreck but he loves them a lot.

It’s a bit of a strange feeling. He was never much of a people’s person, and while he usually gets along with most people, the only true _best friend_ he ever had was Bokuto. The idea that anyone else would do something like this with him, _for_ him … It makes him very emotional, despite the reason why it came to be in the first place.

When he closes the door to his tiny bathroom, he hums a melody he’s never heard before, one that sounds like a beginning. Perhaps this would be a good one to write his song to – and even though he knows nothing about the lyrics yet, the title _There Be Light_ forms in his mind and he might as well just take it.

Maybe he can work something out for that later.

 

* * *

 

All of his motivation is immediately crushed when he arrives to his first class and finds out almost everyone knows about the concert.

Most of their questions are the same, but he doesn’t listen to them anyway in favour of thinking up some sort of plan how to leave this place until he absolutely has to come back, so he makes a run for it to the restroom pretty quickly and stays there until class starts and everyone is busy with school again. This procedure gets repeated several times until lunch break.

It’s then when he remembers that damn it, he can’t stay locked in on the toilet for an hour. The cafeteria is out, his friends aren’t usually there on Mondays and sitting alone would only invite people to swarm to him and bother him with questions he really, _really_ does not want to answer right now.

He considers the library, but it turns out it’s closed for the next three days because they’re taking inventory. Why they couldn’t just do that on the weekend is beyond him.

Fleeing to the choir room isn’t an option either, since the big band is practicing there at this time. He won’t get a key for an empty classroom unless he has a good excuse, which he doesn’t.

It takes him a moment to remember that he has friends living on campus. He knows that Mai is helping out with something, probably the stocktaking if he thinks about it, but if Tooru has anything to do, he hasn’t mentioned it.

It’s worth a try if nothing else.

_Are you busy right now?_

The answer comes almost immediately. _no, why? need me for something?_

As he’s typing his response, he realises just how strange of a request it actually is. What’s the message he’s sending here? ‘Help, I need to hide away for the rest of my life’ or ‘I want to spend time with you’?

Granted, while he’s definitely going for the former, the latter isn’t exactly incorrect. He still needs to properly thank him for yesterday, and now that he’s slowly growing more aware of what he’s feeling for him – that being something that could possibly be compared to a crush – the thought of being alone with Tooru, especially on his room, makes him feel a little giddy. He’s not going to admit that though, of course, at least not for now.

Well, anything is better than the alternative.

_Somewhat. Would you mind me spending lunch break in your room?_

The three dots indicating he’s typing are there for a long time, so long that he’s afraid it’s going to take up all of his break, but eventually he does get a response. _of course not ~ it’s number 248, do you know where the building is or should I pick you up?_

_I know where it is. Thank you, I’ll be right there._

He won’t even have to walk three minutes from his current makeshift hideout behind a tree. Waiting for Tooru to pick him up would have just taken longer, although he can’t say he hates the idea.

Although he knows why he’s doing this, each step makes him feel a bit more nervous. There’s not much to screw up on this front, really, but he can’t shake the feeling, one reminiscent to that he felt at the festival.

By the time he’s standing in front of the wooden door on the second floor of the dormitory, his hand raised to knock, he almost wants to leave again. But he’s here now, and this is still better than getting all those questions, so he finds himself knocking anyway.

Before he even takes his hand back down, the door is pulled open by a very casual looking Tooru. So casual, in fact, that he’s wearing sweatpants and fluffy socks and a T-Shirt with a dinosaur in a space ship printed on it.

“Hey there,” he sing-songs and Keiji narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t you have class before this?”

“Nope, my Mondays are the best. If I’d known you were coming earlier, I’d have changed clothes though …” His laugh doesn’t sound all that apologetic as he moves a hand to the nape of his neck. It’s admittedly extremely adorable. “Come in, before anyone sees me like this. They won’t let me hear the end of it.”

“And you think I will?” he asks playfully and steps inside.

One mystery of his life is finally solved: at last, he knows how big those dorm rooms are. It’s definitely much smaller than his apartment, with a bed on one side and a sofa on the other. A door on the side seems to lead to a bathroom and a wardrobe is standing across from it. Other than that, there’s no space for anything else. It doesn’t even have a desk.

“It’s … Smaller than I expected.” And those are the things that are as expensive as the whole education here? Thank god he had a better option. After seeing this, he cherishes his apartment even more.

“I have some of my stuff in Dai-chi’s room, his is bigger.” That explains something at least, but does make him wonder why they don’t just share one then. He’s fairly certain you can do that here. “Anyway, make yourself at home!”

“It’s only for …” He checks his phone. “Forty-seven minutes.”

“About that …” Tooru sits down on the couch and raises an eyebrow at him. “What brought you here? As much as I’d like to think it was genuine affection, I somehow doubt that’s the case.”

Oh, he doesn’t know half of it.

“My classmates. Kind of. People have been bothering me about yesterday ever since I got here.”

Something in Tooru’s expression shifts immediately and he stands back up to put a hand on Keiji’s upper arm. He touches both the fabric of his T-Shirt and his bare skin, and it sends a prickling sensation through the latter he decides to ignore for now, as long as possible, anyway. This is going to be very difficult. “Are you doing alright? We have rehearsal today, too. I don’t think anyone would mind you skipping …”

“I won’t skip,” he shuts him down quickly. “There’s too many things to talk about. Nekomata-san is expecting me and I need to apologise to everyone.”

“That’s admirable … I’d totally skip.”

“Liar,” he snarks with as much of a smile as he can manage. He can’t imagine Tooru ever skipping choir, even after something like this. Plus, you can’t really get into a fight with all of the fourth years if you didn’t show up to practice.

“Hey, I’m just trying to make you feel better!”

“You are. Thank you. For yesterday, too.” He could joke about it, but he seriously needed to say this. He hasn’t shown much gratefulness for what happened, really, and he feels bad about it – without Tooru, things could have, no, certainly would have ended up much worse.

His expression softens a bit and his hand drops from his arm, and Keiji wishes he’d kept it there but at the same time is grateful for it; he has enough to deal with right now. “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, what are you going to do now? I’d understand if you didn’t want to keep the duet, but I don’t think you should back out of it.”

He doesn’t particularly want to, but he’s been thinking about it over the course of the day, and while he hates giving up like this, it’s the only choice he can possibly make. It’s thanks to their duet that he’s been overthinking and losing sleep and, most importantly, falling behind in class. It’s not only an annoyance, it’s genuinely becoming a problem. His focus needs to be on passing, as much as he likes choir. “I’m going to give it up. There’s too many factors going against keeping it. It’s not because of what happened, but I think if there was anything good about it, it’s that it opened my eyes to the big picture. If I keep going like this, I’ll burn out and won’t get anything done.”

Half of him expects some sort of offended gasp, or something along the lines of ‘you shouldn’t give up’, but to his surprise, Tooru sighs and smiles at him, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I suppose so. Do whatever you think is best for you. You still have the next three years too, so you’ll have plenty of chances.”

The tone of his voice makes him feel all sorts of things he doesn’t want to think about – it’s so painfully understanding he wonders if he wanted him to tell him something else.

“Sooner or later you’ll have to go out there and face all those questions though,” he continues and shrugs before going back to the sofa and sitting down again, leaving Keiji to stand there without much purpose.

Can he just sit down? Of course, that’s what a sofa is for, but it’s not exactly the biggest of couches, so it would mean sitting very close to Tooru. Possibly too close. He could sit on the bed across from him but that feels even stranger, more intimate. Also, sitting directly across from him could make a situation of neither of them talking extremely awkward, as he doesn’t have much of an idea what to do to kill the time. Eventually, he just stays standing.

“Don’t remind me. It just came so suddenly, I think if I have time to mentally prepare I’ll be fine.” He hopes, at least.

“Yup, news here spread fast when the national orchestra is involved.” Tooru pats the seat next to him. “No need to just stand there, come over here.”

It’s said so nonchalantly, with seemingly no ulterior motive behind it, and yet the butterflies in Keiji’s stomach decide to fly around in a panicked frenzy once again. Maybe coming here wasn’t the best idea after all.

But this won’t be the first time they’re sitting closely, right? They’ve done it before, with their shoulders touching on that piano stool, or Tooru’s hand reaching for his on the white-water ride.

His steps are a bit wary and he sits down very carefully. How Semi slept on this couch is another mystery in his life, because it is certainly not big enough to fit a guy as tall as him laying down. Even with Keiji’s utmost care, he only narrowly avoids brushing Tooru’s shoulder with his own, and he’s turning it into an art. It’s also not a particularly comfortable sofa for sleeping, he imagines. Semi must have woken up with one hell of a backache.

(Keiji’s own is gone now, thankfully, but the thought of it is almost making it come back.)

It’s only now that he realises the air conditioner in the dorm building is much better at doing its job than the one in his apartment. He didn’t even notice before because his attention was taken away by other things, but now that he can feel Tooru next to him by his body warmth, it’s very clear. What’s also very clear is that this is going to be a long forty-five minutes.

“You really don’t have anything in here, huh,” he says to have something to make conversation with, and Tooru laughs.

“Kinda. Dai-chi and I share a TV and some gaming consoles, and he never uses his desk so I take that up too … And most of the time I’m somewhere in the school anyway since we can use the instruments there. Honestly, I mostly come in here to sleep and when I need some alone time.”

“Sorry if I interrupted your alone time, then.” He really is sorry – he definitely knows what it’s like to just want to be left alone, something that several of his friends don’t understand ( _Bokuto-san_ ).

“I don’t mind it. I like being with you.”

If he was drinking anything right now, he’d be choking on it. Thankfully, he manages to keep his composure somehow, despite his very pressing desire to scream.

“Thank you,” is what he says instead and immediately internally slaps himself for. _‘Thank you’? What am I thinking?_

“Is that really something to be thankful for?” Tooru mutters, obviously to himself, and Keiji defaults to staring at the floor and not saying another word until he remembers that he has a phone he could stare at and pretend to be busy. Would that be rude? They’re not really talking right now anyway, and maybe he finds something to make some smalltalk about. Any if he doesn’t, at least he has something to do.

He doesn’t even get past his lockscreen before Tooru says, “Ooh, I completely forgot! I still need a contact photo of you!”

Keiji looks up at him and cocks his head. Is that really important? And if it is, why didn’t he mention it earlier?

Tooru stands up from the sofa to point the camera of his phone at him and he’s absolutely not ready and certainly not photogenic enough for something this sudden, and the camera clicks before he can even get himself to smile.

He inspects the photo for a moment and then nods. “Perfect. Want to see it?”

“I’ll pass,” Keiji answers quickly. He does not need to be reminded of this, thank you very much. It’s bad enough Tooru has what he can only assume is a terrible photo of him now. Even a failed selfie would have probably been better.

“Aw, why? It’s so cute.” When he sits down again, all of his former care in placing himself just so they won’t be too close is null and void – Tooru even leans a bit into him to show him the photo regardless of what he said, and it’s extremely stressful.

It looks about how he expected it to. His expression can only be described as utterly dumbfounded, eyes widened in disbelief and looking up at the camera as if he’d never seen one before and is sceptical of whether or not it could kill him. If he’s being positive about it, the angle makes him look a bit cute and his hair is somewhat nice today, but in all honesty, it’s a very stupid photo, even more so if it’s meant to represent him in Tooru’s contacts.

“Do you need one of me?”

“No.” He almost adds, _I already have one_ , but thankfully, his common sense kicks in just in time to save him the embarrassment. Out of all the things he doesn’t need to know, that Keiji saved the selfie in the library he found on Instagram to add it as his contact photo is probably on top of the list.

He deleted the picture itself from his phone immediately after setting it, but he didn’t like the idea of not having a contact photo for someone he sees regularly. If it’s just a person whose number he has because they had a class group or something, fine, but …

Their conversation kind of pans out after that, and he quickly gets used to the feeling of Tooru leaning against him while they’re both on their phones. He doesn’t dare sneak the occasional glance, not when it’s this comfortable, nowhere near as bad as he feared. Eventually, he grows a bit tired; he didn’t get a lot of sleep tonight after all and constantly sitting in the same position can make him sleepy.

He fights the urge to close his eyes, and the fact that even though it’s mostly cosy he’s still not sitting in an ideal position helps with keeping him awake, but the earlier nervousness and butterflies have faded to make space for something warmer, tempting him.

After a while, he doesn’t even really register what’s on his screen anymore and the bed on the other side suddenly looks very inviting. Perhaps that Disney marathon wasn’t the best idea after all. However, a quick glance at the time reveals break’s over in less than ten minutes.

In the end, they didn’t do too much here, he supposes. But he’s glad he got to talk to someone about his decision concerning the duet, and there’s something very comforting in Tooru’s presence. He thinks it might be because of what happened after the concert, when he was at his most vulnerable. All of a sudden, he trusts him.

His confusing feelings for him are just the cherry on top, but he feels like he wouldn’t mind them staying as friends, at least for now. As long as they don’t fall back into their early patterns of stressful wariness and mixed signals, he’s fine with it.

“I should go,” he says after four more minutes, and when Tooru turns his head to look at him, he looks very confused until he seems to remember why he was here in the first place.

“Oh. Right. School is a thing.” He blinks, furrows his eyebrows, then looks at his clothes and realisation strikes his features. “Oh god, I have class too, I need to change— I completely forgot, crap … Uhm! See you at rehearsal!”

Keiji can’t help his quiet laugh at the other’s distress, and he hurries over to the door and only turns around to say, “See you there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suddenly switching names for Oikawa was harder than expected. I usually use his first name but somehow, I'm so used to his last name for this fic that it still feels weird. it feels weird for Keiji still, too, so I guess it's okay. °^°


	19. Imagination Escalation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to 3wl, where time is an illusion and so are update schedules
> 
> LOOK I DON'T KNOW WHY IT WAS THIS FAST. IT JUST WAS. BE HAPPY WITH IT IDK. two chapters in one week ... never thought I'd be able to say that but here we are.
> 
> this chapter as well as the next one is again rather long. not because there's so much happening (I could have split this earlier tbh), but because I want to reach 100k words by chapter 20 lol. can you imagine though ... 20 chapters ... 100k words ... I've never even come CLOSE to that. is this the power of the OTP? yes. yes it is. (or maybe it's just the power of being very very very attached to a fic)
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter aS YOU MAY BE ABLE TO TELL idk it was just. really fun. there's Akaoi cuteness and Bokuaka friendship and all sorts of good stuff ... and of course there's the dreaded talk with Nekomata. and the ending. the ending. hehehehehehehehehehe
> 
> Yumi is like ... the one OC in this that isn't pure filler material pff. I like cameo-ing Yumi. she showed up in my Yahashira Halloween oneshot and now she's showing up here. she's good at inserting herself into situations that have nothing to do with her. fun fact, she's the manager of my main fanteam Inukawa. that Oshiro "Oshirun" Haruki aka the poor guy who had to lend his name to Tooru's car plays on. 
> 
> and yes Iwakage is a thing in this fic. I've just suddenly decided that. it's not a big thing, I just wanted to make Tooru mad (and Iwakage is a very good ship please ship Iwakage with me)

He doesn’t get far.

He’s gotten about two meters away from the building when someone tackles him from the side, sending him flying to the ground and knocking the air out of him as he hits the asphalt.

Thankfully, he avoids falling on his head, but a sting shoots through his arm and he’s definitely bleeding, and the very heavy weight of whichever person just attacked him still crushes him for a good ten seconds before they jump up with a gasp.

“’kaashi! Shit! Did I hurt you?” Bokuto asks, his voice sounding close to tears. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you!”

“You didn’t,” he lies after he finally gets some air back into his lungs. He doesn’t think he sprained anything, but his arm’s going to burn for a while. When he sits up, the world is spinning, and he blinks several times until it finally looks like it’s going to stop sooner or later. “What was that for …”

Bokuto reaches out to him and when Keiji takes his hand, he pulls him upward so abruptly he almost falls into the other direction. “We’re an opening act!”

“You … What?” Who is ‘we’? Opening act for what? He doesn’t understand a single thing.

“We’ll play as the opening act for Cassiopeia! You know, that rock band Tetsu likes!”

How on earth is Keiji supposed to know what bands Kuroo likes? At least that makes a bit more sense now. “That’s great, Bokuto-san.”

He’s bouncing up and down with barely contained excitement and a smile brighter than the sun on his face. “You’re coming, right? You’ve gotta! Bring Terushima! And Mai!”

“When is it?” The next period without classes is coming up soon and while nothing has actually been said, there have been hints from their upperclassmen that they may have another practice camp then. Apparently, at this time of year, it’s always rather sudden due to problems with the venue. If that’s the case and it overlaps with that concert, he won’t be able to show up … Although he very much wants to. Bokuto is clearly excited about this, and it’s contagious. He’s not usually the biggest fan of rock music, but there are always exceptions. Whether he trusts Kuroo’s music taste has yet to be decided though.

“Uuuh … I’ll tell you later!”

So in other words, he forgot. Keiji isn’t even surprised.

“I’ll definitely try to make it, but I can’t guarantee anything, it’s all up to choir,” he says as reassuringly as he can manage.

“You better! We’re gonna give it our all!”

The excited tone of his voice paints a smile on his face. Bokuto in small doses is very energising, and it’s hard to forget once you know him why he’s such a great friend to have. He wishes he had more time to talk to him, but class is about to start, so they quickly say their goodbyes since they have to walk into different directions as well.

It only dawns on him once he’s in front of his classroom that Bokuto didn’t mention yesterday’s incident at all, not even earlier via text or a call. If he hadn’t talked to him back then about their friendship, this might have worried him, but right now, it only feels like his friend knows when to give him space.

Well, he probably doesn’t actually _know_ , just go by instinct as he always does. Keiji is the one who thinks, Bokuto is the one who acts. Sometimes, that’s a curse, but he usually considers it a blessing. Maybe that’s why he seems to gravitate to people like him and Terushima, the loud, extroverted ones who take life as it comes.

Having some of that spontaneity himself could go a long way, he thinks. But if he’s ever going to acquire it is unforeseeable.

 

* * *

 

Maybe he was wrong with something being unforeseeable, because apparently, Keiji is a fortune teller.

When Nekomata explains that their next practice camp is going to be in two weeks at a completely different location than before, laughter ensues from the third and fourth years who appear to be used to this. The words ‘this is a bit sudden, but’ are ones that Keiji has heard from him several times so far, so he can’t say he’s surprised.

The place they’ll stay at is a hotel by a lake that’s a six hour drive away, at minimum. He mentally tuned out halfway through when the information became fewer important things and more trivia tidbits, but from what he’s gathered, their hostel in Yukiyama is fully booked by other clubs who have beaten them to the punch.

He arrived to practice later than usual today, trying to avoid talking to people as it has worked in his classes since lunch break as well, but now that the talk he inevitably has to go through with Nekomata is on the very near horizon, he’s getting fidgety, spinning a pencil around in his hand to calm his nerves. It only helps to make him more nervous.

Keiji knows he can’t run away from this, but being confronted with his failures is still a terrifying thought even when he knows it’s coming.

He also announces that they’ll finally be given the sheet music for what the third and some select first years have made out of _#showtime_ as well as the third and final song for the competition. From the sound of it, it’s another happy-go-lucky one called _Imagination Escalation_ , so the theme they’re going with is now officially enthusiasm, he supposes. His conversation with Terushima back then comes to mind – _music should make people happy_.

Well, he could damn well use a song to make him happy right now.

Rehearsal is beautifully uneventful, to the point where he wishes something would actually happen to have Nekomata leave directly afterward and delay their talk for another week. The only things even barely of note are that, first, Terushima absolutely nails his solo on the head every single time they go through it and looks like he’s having a blast doing it, and, second, that they don’t even mention the concert. At all.

If anything has ever given him the impression that he did something very, very wrong, this is it. There’s no reason for withholding any sort of constructive criticism from them, and Nekomata is not the kind of person to do that in the first place. He can only guess that reflecting on it would lead to serious trouble, and it makes him wonder how many people here hate him now.

Nobody has been rude to him so far, but he can tell they’re keeping their distance – or, in Terushima’s case, doing the exact opposite and not leaving his side, constantly trying to make smalltalk, which just ends up stressing him out even more.

When break starts, his friend finally leaves him alone to head for the bathroom, and Tooru immediately uses that opportunity to snatch his seat. “Keiji,” he sing-songs with a sheepish smile, “we’re sharing a room together again, right?”

That was what they said last time. Or rather what Tooru said last time. Now it’s bothering him for much different reasons than before though.

But he can’t really turn him down, right? What other options does he have?

“I guess we are,” he says with only the smallest delay.

That’s just something he’ll have to deal with as it comes; and admittedly, there are worse problems than sharing a room with your crush (?). Besides, it’s only going to be for a week, what could possibly go wrong?

(Thinking back to how cute Tooru was when Keiji saw him sleeping, many things could go wrong, but he’ll just have to ignore that thought.)

“This is the first time we’re going to that hotel, so I don’t know how big the rooms are, but I’m pretty sure it will be double, like in the hostel. And if not, uh …” He glances around the room looking for people. “We can invite Dai-chi and … Mai-chan? Are co-ed rooms okay?”

“No idea, they never said anything about it.” Now that he’s thinking about it, they didn’t say anything for the first camp either. They just kind of split by genders because it was the expected thing to do, but considering how quite a few people here aren’t straight anyway, it doesn’t really seem to matter all that much.

If that’s the case, can’t he just room with Mai instead? That sounds like less trouble.

“Ah well, we’ll see once we get there.” His cheerful tone of voice drops a few notes when he quietly adds, “Are you okay? You’ve been looking nervous.”

“Of course I’m nervous,” Keiji answers almost cynically. Tooru of all people should know. “But it has to be done.”

“Aka-kun!” Mai calls from the alto section and when he looks at her, she’s leaning out of her chair waving excessively. “Can you come over here real quick? I need your advice!”

It’s as good an excuse as any to stop thinking about it, so he smiles weakly at Tooru before standing up and heading toward his friend, who is now hunched over her phone with Yumi and Futakuchi looking over her shoulders at the screen. “What’s wrong?”

“You know a thing or two about flutes, right? Is this one better,” she switches to another tab, “or this one?”

“Hold on.” He takes the phone and narrows his eyes at the two pages, one displaying a golden, the other a silver flute. They’re from different websites, but his first hunch is proven when he scrolls down a bit to reveal the information about them. “Mai, that’s the exact same model, only in different colours.”

“Yes,” she states as if it was obvious. “And I want to know which colour is better.”

“The colour doesn’t make a difference, the material is the same.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along,” Futakuchi says and shakes his head incredulously. “But she doesn’t listen to me. She doesn’t even listen to Yumi.”

“The colour has got to make a difference though,” Mai insists. “Even a minor difference in sound. Otherwise there’s no reason to use different colours!”

“Aesthetics,” Yumi argues and Keiji nods.

“Really, that’s all there is to it. Why do you want a flute anyway?”

“I want to learn an instrument, duh.”

Well that’s sudden. She didn’t even mention it earlier … Or ever.

“She heard Shimizu-san say she likes the sound of the flute earlier,” Yumi explains and suddenly, everything makes a lot more sense. Should he tell her that Shimizu isn’t too fond of her? Then again, perhaps that has changed. He hasn’t really talked to her in a while.

“Do you have the time for it?” he asks even though he knows the answer.

“Of course not, but I still want to try!” Her expression speaks of stubborn enthusiasm not unlike the ordinary Terushima face, but there’s something else in it too that he can’t quite place. “So, which one would you pick?”

“I’d go to a music store and ask a professional. You don’t want to order something from the internet and end up paying more than it’s worth.” He made that mistake once with a violin and then never again. As comfortable as online shopping is, for instruments, it’s not worth anything unless you already know exactly what you want.

If Mai really wants to learn, she’ll need someone to teach her, too. He doesn’t have the time to give her actual lessons, but since they spend a lot of time together already, it may be possible to squeeze a bit of practice in there. Once he officially gives up the duet …

Which Mai doesn’t even know about yet.

It’s probably best if he doesn’t tell her, or he’ll get slapped. Eventually she’ll find out, of course, but this is a decision he has to make on his own. He does feel a bit unfair because of it, but it’s for the best.

“Yeah, you probably have a point …” She sighs defeatedly. “I don’t know anything about instruments, to be honest. I’m just that girl who can sing, and you can’t buy a voice in a store.”

“Imagine that,” Futakuchi mutters. “Just go in there and ask for a bass voice so you can hit the low notes.”

Yumi giggles. “I’d like a male voice with a range from F2 to G5, please!”

“What do you want with a male voice?” Mai asks and the grin on Yumi’s face is very innocent and sweet, to the point where there’s no way that it’s genuine.

“Scare people.”

“Who’s gonna be scared of someone as small as you?” he hears Terushima ask behind him and when he turns around to ask what took him so long, he sees that he’s holding a waffle. Where the hell did he get a waffle? There are no waffles sold on campus.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Keiji mutters and side-eyes Yumi. “She’d make for an exceptional yandere.”

“Futa is the tsundere then,” Terushima says with a grin, but to his surprise, the tsundere in question doesn’t seem to mind. He’s given up on following what the hell is going on in their relationship, but he did figure they were still on bad terms or whatever what they had could be considered. Next to those two, his relationship with Tooru looks simple enough to be considered minimalistic.

“Is there a word for a deredere who’s not pure, but just happy and loud?” he shoots back but lacks any sort of bite. Keiji could be wrong, but he thinks he hears … Fondness?

This is getting too strange for him. “I’m going back to my seat. Mai, if you have any more questions – _actual_ questions – regarding flutes, just ask me.”

“That was an actual question!” She blows up her cheeks and crosses her arms over her chest like a stubborn child, but it doesn’t last long until she has to laugh.

Terushima follows him to their seats, but pulls on his shirt to stop him halfway. “Before I forget! We’re rooming at the practice camp, right?”

How do you politely say _never, not in a million years_? He decides to go with the truth, not that his friend doesn’t know how badly he snores. Why he’s even trying again is a mystery all in itself. “Actually, I already promised Tooru …”

“Who?”

He cocks his head and it looks like a very confused golden retriever and it is right then that Keiji realises he genuinely has no idea what he’s talking about. He probably forgot Tooru’s first name somewhere along the way, since nobody ever uses it.

“Oikawa-san,” he explains, and when his expression only grows more puzzled, he adds, “Oikawa Tooru. He asked me to share a room with him and I said yes, since we ended up that way at the first camp too.”

It takes a few more moments until understanding lights up in Terushima’s eyes. If this was a cartoon, there’d be a lightbulb appearing over his head right now, accompanied by a poignant _ding-dong_. “Aaaaaah! Okay, that makes sense! You can’t just suddenly switch to his first name and expect me to …” His sentence trails off into nothing and Keiji can practically see the gears in his head turning, trying to piece together this mystery. “Uh, why are you and Oikawa-san on a first-name basis all of a sudden?”

This room is way too crowded for him to want to explain it to anyone here, and their break is almost over, so he resorts to the cliché, “It’s a long story.”

Is it really, though? Looking back, it’s been fairly straightforward. He broke down, Tooru calmed him down, they had some sort of moment and switched to first names. Granted, he could have done without the first part, but …

His thoughts are interrupted by Nekomata calling them back to rehearsal, which continues as uneventfully as it began.

All of those things kept his mind busy for long enough, but now that he only has one thing to focus on, his earlier anxiety is creeping back up. He doesn’t like getting overtaken by his feelings, so he tries to rationalise it in is head – what could his director even say that would hurt him directly? He hasn’t been kicked out of choir yet, so it’s unlikely it’s going to happen, and despite the dreary atmosphere around most people he can still feel in the air, nobody has attacked him for his failure. He has no reason to be afraid.

Now if his subconscious would realise that too, he’d be very grateful.

Usually, boring practices like this one feel drawn out, but of course that’s not the case today, and the end comes too quickly for his liking.

After they’re finished putting everything away, Terushima lightly punches him in the elbow for what’s probably supposed to be encouragement before gathering Mai, who gives him a thumbs-up along the way, and heading out.

Some part of Keiji wants to ask them to wait for him, but Terushima has a train to catch – one Keiji will probably miss – and Mai is going home to her parents again, so she’s taking the same one. It’s only one more annoyance for himself, too; missing that train means waiting for the next one that comes an hour later – if he’s lucky and it’s not late. Usually it’s only a thirty minute wait, but they’ve just started working on the tracks, so everything’s a bit unorganised right now.

Still, he feels he deserves some emotional support.

A hand on his shoulder pulls him out of his thoughts and somehow, he’s not surprised to find Tooru standing next to him with a concerned look on his face. Once again, although there’s not much difference in height between them, he feels small under his knowing gaze. What shocks him the most is that he doesn’t mind it all that much – it’s a bit like an extra layer of security, something to hide behind when he needs it, and good god, does he need it right now.

“Can you wait for me outside?” he asks without even thinking about it and regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. What is he saying? He can’t just ask that of him, he doesn’t know if he has anything else to do or if he just plainly doesn’t want to. He’s no emotional crutch for him to use, damn it. “Sor—”

“I was just about to ask you if you wanted that,” Tooru says and snorts. “You’ve stared after Teru-chan and Mai-chan like they’ve just left your life forever. Not really subtle.”

He’d be bothered by that if he hadn’t already known it. Hiding his emotions isn’t particularly high on the list of his priorities right now. “Can you drive me home then, too?” He’s not entirely serious, although it would indeed be very practical.

“What am I to you, a chauffeur?”

“Hey, it could have worked.”

Tooru looks at him suspiciously until he eventually sighs. “Okay, I’ll drive you. But if this goes on, you have to start paying me! I accept money and milk bread.”

Milk bread, huh? Sounds expensive. Keiji never tried it, so he wouldn’t know. If it means snatching a ride home, he may look into it.

The room is emptying at a steady pace, and soon enough, Tooru leaves as well, telling him he’ll be waiting in front of the parking block. He flashes him a peace sign as he goes, and it doesn’t really help.

Nekomata is putting away his documents and sheet music at the piano when Keiji finally gathers the courage to go up to him, take a deep breath, and say as he rehearsed in his head several times, “I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. I was nervous and I blanked, which ruined the rest of the concert for all of us. I don’t know what I can do to make up for it, but I’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit.”

He always thought his director looks like an old cat, one that’s a bit cranky but loves its family nonetheless. Usually, he’s the type of person to radiate safety, like you just need to look at him and get the feeling that everything is okay. Right now, though, he’s dead afraid of him.

It’s his own fault, really, nothing in his posture or expression is different from normal, but with the knowledge of his own failures, he suddenly becomes much more intimidating.

“Punishment?” he asks as if he’s genuinely surprised he brought it up. “Well, we probably won’t be invited for something like that anytime soon, that’s true …”

They won’t. This could have been a huge chance, but he blew it, all by himself, even in a group of so many people.

“But aside from your faux-pas, everything went great. I saw it as a learning experience first and foremost, and people will have forgotten all about it once we’ve won the competition in October. You’re not the first person to make a mistake on stage.”

That’s what Tooru told him as well. Of course he’s not the first, but he cannot deny that he made the entire experience a lot worse.

“We’ll perform _Spica_ again on the school concert at the end of the semester as planned, and you will make up for your mistake. All I’m asking of you is to reflect on what led you to this point and work to do it better next time. Having experienced it first-hand is already punishment enough.”

“About that,” he says, though his voice lacks impact. “I have to give up my part. Not because I messed up, but because of school. I’m falling behind in class because I keep practicing, and if I don’t pass, it will all be for nothing.”

Nekomata smiles warmly, but his eyes are scrutinising, and although he’s shorter than Keiji, he feels like he’s being looked down on. “Is that the truth or what you’re telling yourself?”

The question takes him by surprise a bit. Tooru didn’t even ask it, and he never considered himself to be wrong about this. Why would he be? He knows his own experiences. “It’s the truth.”

“If that’s the case, tell me again at the camp. Until then, I want you to think about it. I still believe you’re the best person for it and I would not want to replace you.” With his voice dropping to a whisper, he adds, “And if you quit, so will Nametsu, and we lose our best duo this semester.”

Does he want Keiji around for Keiji’s sake or just so that he won’t lose Mai?

“Then again, we could replace Nametsu with Oikawa if we really had to … But who’d be his partner then? I’m still coming back to you no matter how much I think about it.”

Well, never mind that. This way, it almost sounds like he’s the irreplaceable one, even though he knows it’s not true.

He’s never been the irreplaceable one.

“Anyway, it’s good you came talk to me,” Nekomata finishes despite him being the one who told him to do just that yesterday. “Don’t dwell on it too much. It happens to the best of us. The most important thing is standing up from it and becoming better through it. We cannot learn if we don’t make mistakes. Oh, and if you have the chance, could you give these to Terushima and tell him to copy them for the others who helped with the sheets?”

He hands him what looks like sheet music to _#showtime_ , but with red notes scribbled all over them. A review of their work, perhaps?

“I will,” he assures him before he’s dismissed.

 

* * *

 

Tooru is waiting for him exactly where he told him he’d be. He hasn’t noticed him yet, since his eyes are fixed on his phone and the expression he’s making is truly comical – what did he just see to make him look this utterly disgusted?

“Hey,” Keiji breathes and Tooru’s head snaps upward. He blinks at him before he seems to remember where he is, and instead of a greeting, he holds his phone up to him, so close to his face that all he sees is blurred colours and light.

“Can you believe this? Out of all the people in the world, why him?”

He snatches the phone from his hand to actually look at whatever has Tooru so agitated. It’s a photo he was sent on WhatsApp from a supposed _Iwa-chan (_ _／_ _o^)/_ _°⊥_ _＼_ _(^o_ _＼_ _)_ , so, Iwaizumi. The kaomoji by his name is apparently two people playing volleyball, and it makes him wonder if he has one for everyone. What might Keiji’s be?

On the photo, Iwaizumi, whom he now recognises from the Instagram photo, has his arm draped over the shoulder of a younger looking, but taller boy with black hair falling into his face and what looks like the worst iteration of resting bitch face he has ever seen. It’s a person he has never met in his life and he doesn’t even know Iwaizumi beyond what Tooru told him and what he saw on the photo, so he has no idea what’s so wrong about it.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“Tobio! He’s dating Tobio!” Tooru insists as if Keiji knew who he’s talking about. He seems to remember that little fact about three seconds later, as he adds, “Kageyama Tobio, he’s a third year at Seijoh, on the volleyball club, and I can’t stand him. And now Iwa-chan is _dating_ him, which means he’s basically my brother in law, so the next time I’m meeting up with Iwa-chan means I’m meeting up with Tobio as well!”

Ah, okay, that explains a lot. Why he’d dislike someone on the volleyball club is beyond Keiji, but he supposes it’s just a bad vibe thing.

“If Iwaizumi-san likes him, he can’t be that bad.” He did call him ‘responsible’, after all. “Maybe you just need to give him a chance.”

“I’ve given him my fair share of chances,” Tooru insists, but his pout says otherwise. “C’mon, or it’s gonna be dark.”

“Does that really matter at this point?” Keiji mutters but follows him anyway. Surely Oshirun is getting used to his presence.

When they get to the car, he finds Akiko sitting in the backseat, strapped in as if plush aliens could get fined for safety violations. “What is she doing here?” he asks, although he’s not sure if he really wants to know.

“Oh, I took photos of her on Saturday and forgot to take her back to my room. But she looks kind of cute, doesn’t she?”

A photoshoot with Akiko, alright. He’ll have to check Instagram – it probably is really cute, and so is the idea of Tooru setting up this alien for pictures. His money was well spent, apparently.

When he sits down in the passenger seat and Tooru starts up the engine, he decides to endorse him. “She’s adorable. And responsible, too, most aliens wouldn’t care about earth’s safety regulations.”

“You’re rubbing off on me,” he jokes and smiles. “Did your talk with Nekomata-sensei go alright? You don’t look as frightened anymore.”

“It did.” It really did, much better than he assumed it would, anyway. Except for that one little detail. “Do you think I should keep the duet?”

They pull out of the parking spot and Tooru raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t?”

“I wasn’t going to, but …” _Is that the truth or what you’re telling yourself?_

Is he using his failures at school as an excuse to run away? He was doing fine until he started practicing with Tooru, which was when he got more anxious about it. If he can time it a little better, maybe he won’t have to give it up. But at the same time he has to admit it’s a scary thought to go out there again, to risk to fail again.

“I think you should keep going if you think you can handle the stress. It’s definitely better to try again than to quit, that’s for sure.”

“I have to give Nekomata-san an answer by the time we’re at the camp, so I have some time to think.” He is a bit afraid he’s going to _over_ think, though. He made his decision but now it’s wavering, and he may end up utterly confused at the end. ‘Do whatever you think is right’ is a nice enough statement, but it’s useless in his case.

“Do you want to keep it?” Tooru asks before leaning out of the window to scan his key card so that they’ll get through the gate. Keiji could probably push him out this way. He should consider himself thankful his front-seat passenger is a decent person.

“I do,” he says, but he doesn’t sound as convincing as he would have liked. But it’s true – he does want to keep it, even if the thought of performing it again, or rather trying to again, is frightening.

“Then try and plan out if you can manage it, I guess?” He leans back into the car and they’re finally out of the building. “As I said, I can help you study too.”

It might even help, depending on how good of a teacher Tooru is, but Keiji is a bit afraid he’s going to be too distracted to properly think about his material. Perhaps he could ask Sawamura. He’d go for Bokuto, but he’d be surprised if that guy even studied at all. He bullshitted his way through high school like nobody’s business and it always seemed to work out. Keiji is half convinced he can’t actually fail a year.

“I’ll … See if I need it.”

They drive in silence for a bit, the radio is playing some old-sounding song he has never heard before, and he thinks it would be more atmospheric if it was dark outside, but the sun hasn’t set yet. It’s only another reason to dislike summer. At least Oshirun’s A/C works properly, and at this time of day, it’s not that hot anymore anyway.

“If you really end up giving it up,” Tooru says after a while, quietly, “do you think I’d have a chance on it?”

It just now occurs to him that he doesn’t have a single solo this time around. He did say something like that at the planetarium, but right now, it sounds like it affects him more than he thought. “Well … Nekomata-san did mention you.”

“He did?” His voice immediately rises by a few notes, and his grip around the wheel tightens.

“Yes, but he wasn’t sure who to pair you up with.” _Except for me_ , is what he doesn’t add. “Since Mai’s probably going to throw it if I do.”

“That would be a shame, she’s amazing. But she probably wouldn’t want to do it with me anyway … She doesn’t like me all that much, huh?”

So he noticed. It’s not surprising. “I’m sorry. I’m not entirely sure what her problem with you is.”

“Love me or hate me, it’s still an obsession,” he mutters the lyrics of a song Keiji is pretty sure he’s only ever heard in anime crack videos Bokuto sent him. Somehow, it seems to suit him, and he snorts at the thought. “Hey! What was that for?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

The rest of the drive is relatively quiet until they arrive at Keiji’s apartment building and Tooru insists to walk him up to his apartment. It makes his heart race, but he does think it’s a tad bit unnecessary. Nobody’s going to attack him on the short way there.

Once they’re at the door, he turns around to say goodbye. It would be very easy to ask him to stay, but he doesn’t think he could do it anyway, since he needs some alone time after today. As much as he appreciated his friends staying over for the night, he’s very much looking forward to dropping onto his bed all by himself now.

“Thank you,” he says instead and smiles. “I swear, next time this happens I’ll pay you in milk bread.”

“Do you need a list of the best brands or can I trust your judgement?” Tooru jokes … Well, he thinks, it’s unclear, he seems to be very enthusiastic about that milk bread.

“I can google it, don’t worry.”

“This is a matter to important to be entrusted to Google!”

“Don’t you have to go home and sleep?”

“Alright, I get it, you’re already sick of me and want me to leave, _fine_. Your loss.”

“Obviously, I thought I’d made that clear already.” They look at each other for a moment, grinning widely, and before he really knows what he’s doing, Keiji moves in to hug him.

He stiffens when he realises that he probably should not have done that, they’re nowhere near close enough to hug as a goodbye, but Tooru doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him in return. “I’m guessing that’s your way to say ‘see you’?” he mutters and his mouth is so close to Keiji’s ear it feels like he’s telling him a secret only he is allowed to hear. It sends shivers down his spine and seems to completely steal away his ability to speak.

God, maybe this is worse than he thought.

“That’s what it was supposed to be,” he gets out somehow and they let go, too early for his liking but too late to not be considered utterly embarrassing. He hopes his blush isn’t as visible as it feels, although it does make him feel a little better to see Tooru’s cheeks painted red as well, likely more from the awkwardness of the situation rather than any sort of affection. Honestly, the same goes for Keiji. “Anyway … See you … Whenever.”

Very smooth. He should do this professionally.

“Monday at the latest, I guess. See you there, Keiji.”

The way he says his name will end his life someday, all playful and warm, like he enjoys saying it. It’s not a particularly uncommon name, so he thinks he should feel somewhat accomplished.

As soon as he goes inside and Tooru turns to leave, he closes the door and drops against it, staring at his ceiling with a million thoughts in his head that all end up fading away after a while when he makes dinner and goes over his schoolwork before showering and getting ready for bed.

This whole ‘letting himself fall in love with him’ thing? Not his best plan.

 

* * *

 

It’s easy to tell when Keiji has something particular on his mind because time seems to go faster than usual without him being able to put it to rest, and before he knows it they’re on the bus to their next camp and he still hasn’t made a decision on the duet.

Neither Mai nor Terushima know about it, the only ones who do are Tooru and, as of late, Bokuto, who he thought could help him, but his unending enthusiasm and encouragement to keep it have only made him warier of it. Normally, getting Bokuto to make a decision helps clear his mind, but they’re not in high school anymore and life isn’t as simple as it used to be.

That’s easy to forget when he’s once again clutching a cup of black coffee and Terushima is once again snoring on his shoulder while Mai is once again playing some phone game as they’re once again sitting in the back row of the bus though. Maybe he’s trapped in a time-loop, this feels very familiar.

When they arrive at the hotel, he’s surprised to find it’s rather nondescript. It has an old-timey charm to it since it’s on the countryside, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Somehow, he expected something a bit more … Grand.

The lobby is decently big and filled with dark wooden furniture and white and blue flowers, and it kind of reminds him of a café he used to visit a lot back home. It’s homely, very comfortable; he thinks he’s going to like it.

It seems that the rooms are indeed double rooms, and he’s one of the last to get his key. Their room number is 325 – he hopes it’s one of those that have a balcony.

Tooru, who slept through the entire ride, looks as refreshed as Keiji can only hope to feel someday, and he’s put away his glasses which he saw him wear earlier. He’s not completely sure, but he thinks he remembers one of the third years tapping on the glasses while he was asleep.

Their room, as the number suggests, lies on the third floor, right at the end of the narrow hallway. The beige carpet laid out on the floor swallows their steps, and with most others already in their rooms, it’s almost eerily quiet.

In this age, he feels like actually using a key to get into a hotel room rather than a key card is something that doesn’t happen a lot anymore, but he likes it. With key cards, he’s always afraid that he’ll get locked out because something happened to the electronics.

“We have a balcony!” Tooru calls out immediately when the door opens to reveal that they do, indeed, have a balcony. The room is small and nice, with a small bathroom at the side and a desk by the door leading out to the balcony, and the bed looks comfortable enough.

Hold on.

The bed? Singular?

He’s about to ask if they’ve somehow been given the wrong room when he realises that this is, in fact, a double room. With a double bed.

He hasn’t been in too many hotels in his life, but thinking back to the few times he has, he’s not sure why he’s surprised. Even when he got a single room, all they did was let him have a double bed to himself. Come to think of it, there’s probably no actual single room here, just double rooms used for a single person.

Which means that he’s going to share a bed with Tooru, who’s on the balcony and probably hasn’t even noticed yet.

There goes the healthy amount of sleep he thought he’d be getting this week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can pry this trope from my c o l d d e a d h a n d s


	20. A Song I'd Like To Sing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's actually a song called A Song I'd Like To Sing, but it's not this one. I just really like title. it's so sweet
> 
> 20 CHAPTER 100K WORDS CAN I GET A HELL YEAH  
> I'm so proud of myself I've never gotten this far with anything .... this is the Akaoi magic. I feel like I've said that before but it's still very very true
> 
> speaking of Akaoi magic, this chapter is mostly fluff. a lot of fluff. possibly too much fluff. is there such a thing as too much fluff? I don't think so.
> 
> Ukai's not gonna have a big role I just wanted to write him in because he deserves the world. bless this man. bless all the coaches tbh, they're doing god's work. without them, there'd be no hq!!. praise the coaches
> 
> not much happens in this chapter but some decisions are made and some ... uh ... secrets revealed. (not actually.) thusly (I don't think I've ever used that word in my life) I don't have a lot to say about it. I feel like I should, but I don't. I just dON'T;;; I'm sorry I'm not good at this authoring thing, even though I should be after 100k words but I'm still not

“Keiji, look! We can see the lake from here!”

How does he tell him that he has other things to worry about, like how comfortable the shower would be to sleep in? It’s nice that they have a pretty view, he supposes, but they won’t spend too much time in here anyway, so it likely won’t matter. Maybe they’ll rehearse at the lake though, if there’s not too many mosquitoes.

“That’s nice, Tooru,” he defaults to his usual answer with his mind stuck somewhere else, ‘somewhere else’ being on that bed, at night, unable to sleep because the boy he likes is sleeping next to him soundly, looking so beautiful …

This shouldn’t be a problem, right? It’s not the first time he’s shared a bed with a friend … It is, however, the first time he has feelings for said friend. Suddenly the overly anxious protagonists in the books his cousin forced him to read make a lot more sense to him.

“What are you doing still in there? The air here is great, come outside!”

“I have to unpack, and so do you.” Right now, their bags are standing in the middle of the room, as Tooru carelessly dropped his while heading for the balcony and Keiji … Is overwhelmed, by a lot of things.

“Oh, right, I forgot. Can I leave the door open?”

No harm in it, is there? Unless they have anything to hide from their neighbours, whom he is pretty sure are Futakuchi and another tenor, but he can’t think of anything. “Of course, no problem.”

Tooru stretches and Keiji makes a great effort to concentrate on opening his bag instead, since he’s pretty sure that the T-Shirt he’s wearing could very easily ride up just high enough to reveal a glimpse of his stomach, which he can and will not deal with right now. He _refuses_ to succumb to this downward spiral.

“Alright, then …” His words trail off into nothing and it appears he has finally realised what kind of sleeping situation they are in. At least Keiji isn’t the only surprised one, that would have been a bit embarrassing. “I was … About to ask which bed you want, but …”

Yes, that’s a pointless question.

“In this case, I’ll take the window side! And, uh …” If nothing else, he sounds as much at a loss as Keiji feels. “Are you a blanket-hogger or can I sleep without having to fear freezing to death?”

“It’s summer, you’re not going to freeze.” He has no idea if he is, really. He might be. The fact that they only have one shared blanket is already bad enough, he _deserves_ to hog the blanket. Let him live for once in his life.

“Keijiii,” Tooru whines but he pays him no mind, instead takes to sorting the few clothes he has brought into the wardrobe. It’s only what’s absolutely necessary since he didn’t feel like carrying any more weight than he has to in this weather, so it’s quickly done.

He can practically feel his judging stare over his shoulder burning a hole into his clothes. “All of your shirts are so boring. I need to take you shopping!”

“I don’t trust your fashion sense,” he says while putting away one particular dark blue shirt with an owl and the words ‘owl’s well that ends well’ printed on it in white. It hasn’t been long since he bought it, in fact he got it just before he moved, but he hasn’t worn it once so far, which he will no longer stand for. It’s too cute not to be worn.

“Says the guy with the owl pun shirt,” Tooru scoffs and he almost hits him with said owl pun shirt. “Besides, you seemed to like my cardigan.”

“You mean _my_ cardigan,” he corrects him, although he has to admit he’s still thinking of it as Tooru’s. He misses wearing it, but the necklace he gave him eases the pain a bit – if this goes on, he’ll have something to wear from him for every season. Maybe the next thing he’ll get from him is a scarf or something to keep him warm in winter. Or, well, he could just keep wearing the necklace, it’s not exactly season-bound.

“So I guess my hope to get it back someday is in vain after all …” He sighs and Keiji doesn’t have to turn around to see his pout. “You’re lucky you’re cute in it or I’d steal it back from you.”

“You were the one who gave it to me,” he argues, masterfully ignoring the first part of the sentence. He knows he looks good in it, that’s just a fact.

“It was temporary! Temporary!”

“Should have specified that.” He yawns and once again remembers just how tired he actually is; perhaps he can take a nap. “Practice starts in two hours, right?”

Tooru hums and checks his phone. “Precisely … One hour and fifty-eight minutes.”

That should be enough to rest for a bit, although he does fear he’ll wake up all groggy and disoriented – or worse, sleep through his alarm and miss yet another practice by oversleeping or not sleeping _enough_.

Can he trust Tooru to wake him up? For all he knows, he’s going to fall asleep too and then they’re both late. He will definitely set an alarm, but …

The bed looks so soft and inviting right now …

“Uh, should I be scared you’ll fall over or can you stand?”

He wants to retort something, but he may be more tired than originally assumed, or maybe it’s the caffeine wearing off. Yes, a nap sounds truly divine right now – however, now that they share a bed, he’d feel a bit bad just laying down without asking before. Maybe it’s stupid, but he feels like he has to. “Can I lay down for a bit?”

“Please do before you pass out on me again,” Tooru says and snorts. “Why are you asking though? Or is that your way of telling me I should wake you up?”

“Would you do that?” he asks in return. It sounds much better than an alarm, to be honest, he’s always hated waking up to the sound of his alarm clock or phone, but he’s a bit afraid it will work out as well as it did with Terushima last time, that is to say: not at all.

“Sure. Don’t worry, I won’t forget you or anything … Seriously, no need to look at me like that!”

Keiji doesn’t entirely know how he’s looking at him, it’s probably just his tired face, but those words give him enough of an excuse. If he misses practice now, it’s because Tooru screwed up, not him. He half hopes he’s going to, because it would mean more sleep.

“Alright, thank you.” The bed is as comfortable as it looks, and as soon as his head hits the pillow, his eyes fall shut. He’s lying on the covers, but he really doesn’t find it in himself to care right now; he doesn’t need to completely fall asleep, just rest a bit until he’s some semblance of awake again.

He hears Tooru rummaging through his stuff and hopes he won’t steal anything from him while he’s occupied, as a payback for the cardigan or something. Would his clothes even fit him? He supposes they wear the same size, if the cardigan is anything to go by, but who knows …

 

* * *

 

“Keiji,” someone says softly, the sound a bit muffled through his weariness. “Keiji, wake up. Keiji …”

He shifts to the side and hides his face in the pillow, earning a frustrated huff. “Hey, I know you’re awake. If you miss practice, you’re just going to blame me, so get up!”

Practice … Right, there was something about that … It didn’t seem all that long ago either. Did he fall asleep? He can’t remember anything past laying down and closing his eyes.

Reluctantly, he opens his eyes, squinting at the light, and turns around to see Tooru lean on the bedside with an impatient expression that immediately softens when he sees him. “There we go. Can’t have you sleep in again, can we?”

Keiji groans and rubs his eyes. He feels a bit groggy, as if he’d just woken up from actual sleep rather than just what was supposed to be a short nap. “How long was I out?” he manages to ask, though he’s not sure if he wants to know the answer.

“Pretty exactly an hour and a half. We still have some time, but I had no idea how long it’d take to wake you up, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to try it early. It did take …” He glances at the wall and Keiji just now realises there’s a clock up there. Who would’ve guessed? “About three minutes. Honestly, I’m surprised I did it in the end … You sure you’re going to be okay? Unless you want a repeat of last time …”

He slept for a good ninety minutes, and at this point he’s not even surprised anymore. Is he really that hard to wake up though? He always assumed he wakes up fairly easily, but maybe he’s been fooled all his life.

If he’s as tired by the end of the day, maybe this whole bed-sharing scenario won’t be all that bad. He’ll be out before he even remembers he’s not alone. Besides, it’s not like the bed is so tiny they need to cuddle not to fall off or something, it’s going to be just fine.

He should have probably not thought that, because now the idea of sleeping in Tooru’s arms is in his head and he’s blushing for what must look like absolutely no reason. He remembers their hug when he brought him home two weeks ago, all strong and warm and safe …

Oh, this is _terrible_.

“So, we’re meeting in the lobby first, right?” he asks just to have something to distract himself with, despite knowing very well that yes, they are indeed meeting in the lobby first, Ono has said it a million times already.

“Yup. And then we split up into voices until … Well, they didn’t mention a time, so who knows.” Tooru stands up from his bedside and gives him some much-needed space, heading for the bathroom. He leaves the door open when he goes inside to grab a brush and run it through his hair with a disgruntled expression. “Is my hair okay? I feel like it’s weird today.”

Keiji can’t tell any difference from usual, to be honest. “Does it even matter?”

“It’s of utmost importance!” comes back immediately, in a tone of voice that suggests he’s insane for devaluing it. “I’m a second year now, which means I have kouhai, which means I have to make a good impression, and I can’t do that with bad hair!”

“As your kouhai, I can tell you that our impression of you is already irredeemably damaged,” Keiji retorts with a grin and gains an offended gasp.

“Are you saying you don’t like me?”

“I’m saying there’s no need to try and be anything you aren’t anymore, we’ve all figured you out already.” Oh, how he wishes that was true. He feels like he’s been understanding him a bit better lately, but if he had to put it into words, he’d probably be unable to, and there’s so many questions left to be answered. Maybe he should just ask, when they have another one of their little moments.

“I can’t tell if you’re being inspirational or insulting me.” He steps out of the bathroom again and the first thing Keiji sees is that his hair has flattened significantly – it’s still sticking to the sides, but it has lost a fair share of its fluffiness and maybe it’s because he’s still tired, but right now, that’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. His own laugh surprises him, but Tooru’s insulted face only spurs him on until he’s dropping back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling until his laughing fit dies down a bit. “Uhm, _excuse_ you? What’s so funny?”

He stands up from the bed to hurry over to a dumbfounded Tooru and ruffle his hair, which is as soft as he imagined it being, to fix that disaster on his head. Perhaps he’s just making it worse, but at least it regains some volume, and he looks significantly cuter this way.

“I don’t know what you did with that brush, but never do it again,” he says with a grin still on his lips when he removes his hands from his hair.

Tooru stares at him for a few seconds before blinking rapidly and speaking again. “You’re right, that was … A bit of a disaster. Thank you? I guess? Is it better now?”

Well, is it? It’s much more out of control than before, but he likes it. It’s adorable. It makes him look a bit younger, more vulnerable, as does the soft blush on his cheeks.

Keiji thinks he should probably regret acting on impulse like this, but he just can’t be bothered to.

“It’s fine now. A bit messy, but much better than before.”

“I’ll trust you on this, so don’t go ruining my reputation with it.”

“Can’t ruin something that’s already in shambles.” He’s just messing with him at this point, but half of him is convinced the second years especially see him as a dork more than anything. He kind of is, really, and it’s much cuter than he originally anticipated but he can’t complain.

Tooru blows up his cheeks and Keiji successfully represses the urge to pinch them – instead he gathers his sheet music and checks the time. They’ve got a few more minutes, but it can’t hurt to be early.

“I’m heading out, are you coming too?”

“I’m not following a guy who insults me!” Tooru complains but does so anyway, and they keep bickering on their way down to the lobby. It feels natural and light and like something he could very easily get used to.

 

* * *

 

“Are you joining us for Monopoly in Sawamura and my room?” Terushima asks very excitedly in a voice that sounds like he actually believes he’ll say yes.

“First of all, why are you sharing a room with Sawamura-san?” He knew about it, but didn’t have the chance to ask, as his friend fell asleep on the bus when he was about to. With this whole Futakuchi thing taking off or maybe not, what does he know, it seems a little counterproductive to go back to rooming with the guy he thought was hot. Then again, it’s Terushima, he thinks everyone is hot, and Keiji can’t deny Sawamura’s aesthetic appeal either way. Maybe they’ve just formed a similar arrangement to himself and Tooru, considering that the second year doesn’t seem to be fazed by Terushima’s snoring.

“I asked him, duh! By the way … You and Oikawa …”

“San,” he corrects quickly, never mind that he isn’t even Oikawa to him anymore. Anything to get him to keep from talking about it will do.

The room the baritones are practicing in is a small dining room with a keyboard standing at the wall as a makeshift piano. It’s big enough for them and will work just fine once their supposed vocal coach – a guy called Ukai he’s never heard of – has arrived, who’s apparently still stuck in traffic. That, however, also means that it’s easy to overhear other people.

Of course they’re not the only ones talking, but he fears that people listen to Terushima a lot, even if it’s usually to make fun of him. He has that effect on people, he’s incredibly easy to approach and just comes across as an interesting person, no matter if he really is. Keiji usually considers it a blessing, because it allows him to fade into the background quite easily while his friend does all the talking, something he’s used to, but it can also work to his disadvantage.

“Yeah, yeah, that stuff. You still haven’t answered me about him properly! What is this about the whole first name thing?”

Avoiding uncomfortable topics is something he considers himself fairly good at, but it usually ends in getting backed into a corner with no room left to run away. This feels very much like such a corner.

Well, that and he’s literally being backed into a corner. His chair is the one in the top left corner of the room and Terushima’s staring him down and blocking all his escape paths.

“It’s nothing big, I swear,” he starts, although it still feels like something big. He’s getting more used to calling him by his first name, but sometimes it still feels weirdly intimate. “After the concert …”

He doesn’t like to think back to it. Tooru comforting him was the only good thing about any of it, and he would have gladly missed that if it had meant never getting into that mess in the first place. But he hasn’t gotten much backlash and the others have started looking at him again, so he feels a little bit better about it now – and yet, that sting will stay with him for a long time.

“Oh, I remember him running after you,” Terushima says. “Sawamura got so mad, it was really creepy, you don’t wanna see him be angry, trust me! He got really quiet and scary, and he was muttering something about how Oikawa-san should stop getting into other people’s business when they clearly don’t want it … I think, it was hard to understand.”

Tooru did say something about that. He wonders how badly he got chewed out by Sawamura afterward; he never mentioned it again so it was either not too bad or so bad he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“I’m glad he came after me though. I was panicking, I don’t know what I’d have done without him.”

Terushima looks to the ground, suddenly looking guilty, not unlike on that evening. “Should I have come too? I thought you wanted space, so I figured I should leave you alone, but maybe that was wrong …”

It’s painful, seeing him like this and knowing that he’s the reason why he’s feeling like it. He doesn’t know what to say, there are a million things he _could_ say but what eventually comes out is, “Don’t worry about it. I did want to be alone. Tooru just didn’t care.”

“I shouldn’t have cared either,” Terushima argues and when he looks at him again, there’s a stubborn fierceness shining in his eyes. “Next time you feel down, I won’t. You’re my friend, and friends are supposed to help each other! Buut that’s all in the past, back to you and Oikawa-san.”

Dang it, he hoped that part of their conversation had been dropped.

“There’s not much else to say,” he answers slowly, going through the events step by step in his head. They switched to first names because Tooru called him by his when he was calming him down, and that’s pretty much all. There really isn’t too much to it. “We just decided we should use first names, since he asked me what he should call me if not that nickname he gave me.”

Terushima looks unreasonably disappointed. “Boo, that’s boring. I was expecting some sort of dramatic backstory or something. But hey, good for you. Can I call you Keiji too or is that a thing you only let your crush do?”

“P-pardon me?”

The look he receives is terrifying to say the least, one of complete and utter knowledge as if everything has been written on a neon sign lighting up over his head at all times. It’s occurred to him before that Terushima is smarter than he lets on, or maybe Keiji’s just utterly obvious, which he doesn’t think.

“I’m rooting for you,” is all he says. “Does your room have a double bed too? Because if so, rest in peace.”

When have the tables turned like this? He doesn’t deserve this.

“I …” he starts and trails off when he remembers he has nothing to say. What _should_ he say? Especially right here, where the possibility of someone overhearing them is a very real one.

“Seriously, Keiji or not? Although I mean, I guess I’d still call you ‘kaash either way … I like that name. It’s fun to say. ‘kaash.”

“Just … Do whatever you like.” That’s probably a bit too broad of a statement, considering that he’s talking to Terushima Yuuji, but he’s out of words.

“Yo, guys,” a third year thankfully interrupts their conversation and points out of the window with his thumb. “I think that Ukai guy’s coming.”

Keiji and Terushima exchange glances and walk over to look out of the window, and indeed, someone with bleached blond hair and a bag almost falling off his shoulder is running in their direction like someone was chasing him.

Soon enough he’s at the doorway, panting and sweating and clutching this bag, his head the colour of your average overripe tomato.

“Sorry,” he says and coughs. “Traffic.”

It takes a while until everything calms down and is properly set up, and according to some mumblings Keiji hears around the room, that person is the grandson of someone he’s never heard of but is apparently a pretty big figure around here, a former choir director and vocal coach who has worked with some of the best, allegedly. That person also seems to be rivals with Nekomata, which is why his grandson is now working with them in the first place.

He seems like a pretty unorganised person, which he doesn’t particularly approve of, but if his skill is anywhere close to what he’s hearing about his grandfather, he should be able to help them out quite a bunch.

After a few more minutes, he clears his throat and looks at a paper, narrowing his eyes. “There’s soloists in this voice, right?” His voice sounds somehow both disinterested and very curious. Keiji can imagine he got roped into this against his will but is now determined to make the best of it.

Terushima raises his hand higher than he needs to. “Me! I’ve got a solo on _HEART_ _↑_ _BEAT_!”

“That song, huh … You’re Terushima then?”

“Yup!”

“I’ve heard there’s also a duet part with some alto. In …” He pauses to read whatever’s written on that paper. “ _Spica_.”

Oh.

Right.

He totally forgot for a moment.

And now he has no other choice than to decide on a whim, which was the exact opposite of what he wanted. The question is whether he can handle the stress … Or so he thought. Maybe it is that incident at the concert holding him back.

If that’s truly the case, he shouldn’t run away.

_Oh, to hell with it._

“Yes,” he says as confidently as he can manage. “I have that with Nametsu Mai. My name is Akaashi Keiji.”

Tooru’s going to be proud when he hears that. Future Keiji … Is probably just going to be mad.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t plan on practically falling into bed after practice, but he’s so tired he fears he has no other choice. For someone seemingly so uninterested about what they’re going to do, Ukai sure has a way of making them repeat the same things over and over again. It’s boring, tedious, and feels like he’s just spent two years rehearsing rather than a few hours. They dragged it out for so long he almost missed dinner and most other people were already done. One song in particularly, one they haven’t practiced as much, called _A Song I’d Like To Sing_ , has been done to death today. It makes the title extremely ironic.

Tooru, too, is sitting on the bed reading a book he doesn’t care about when he comes into the room. There goes that idea about falling into bed – just sitting there suddenly appears to be a much more daunting task when you’re not doing it on your own. He could just sit down at the desk instead, even though it looks a lot less comfortable.

“Wow, you look like death,” Tooru immediately remarks upon Keiji entering the room, and he thinks that perhaps he should just go for the bed anyway to hit him with a pillow.

“You don’t know half of it,” he answers wearily, then decides to screw it and just collapse on his side of the bed after all. There’s a reasonable distance between them, it’s nothing intimate … Although it does feel like it, but that’s probably just him. He’s almost tired enough to not even be bothered.

Tooru snorts and lightly hits him on the head with his book. “I seriously thought he’d killed you all or something, you weren’t showing up at all.”

“At least we sound spectacular now.” Well, maybe ‘spectacular’ is a bit of an exaggeration, but they’ve improved a whole lot today alone. It feels like they’ve all become more stable and confident in their voices, to the point where he feels like he could recite their whole song arsenal if woken up and ordered to in the middle of the night without a problem.

He’d love to say his duet – or, well, today rather his solo – part got better, but to be perfectly honest, he has no idea. He just wants to sleep.

Lying on his side like this, it’s a very tempting thought to just close his eyes and let sleep wash over his body, but he’s still fully dressed and hasn’t brushed his teeth and he should shower, too, and all of it sounds like a damn hassle.

“We’re … Managing?” Tooru asks more than he says it. “Our vocal coach is super strict, he’s like Iwa-chan! But not as nice. I think he hates us. At least he let us go early …”

“Did you have that last year too?” His voice sounds too sleepy for his liking, but it’ll have to do. He’ll have to say _something_ to stay awake. “Voice-focused vocal coaching, I mean.”

“Not really, at least not on this scale. I mean, we did split up sometimes, but this is the first time I’ve heard about that we’re actually getting coaches assigned to us. I think it’s good, but boy, I wish we weren’t stuck with that guy …”

He chuckles and Tooru smiles at him. If he were a bit more awake, that might have made his heart skip a beat, but all it does right now is make him feel a little warmer. “Ukai-san is good, but I feel like he’s overestimating our stamina a bit.”

“What, you can’t even survive a day of practice? Geez, no wonder you passed out,” he retorts with a smirk.

“Will you let that go already?”

“Never. Now go and get ready to sleep before you do it again.”

“What about you?” He doesn’t look as tired, and it’s not really all that late. Keiji will be happy once he finally gets to sleep, but keeping the lights on because Tooru doesn’t want to yet sounds counterproductive. Then again, he did fall asleep in broad daylight earlier today, so it probably doesn’t really matter.

“Believe it or not, I need my beauty sleep too. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe, considering I’m always stunning …”

“Do I have to remind you that brushing your hair destroyed it?”

“I’m _always_ stunning,” he repeats, higher-pitched this time. “If you don’t think that, you just haven’t understood the meaning of beauty!”

“Don’t worry, I still think you’re cute.” The words are out before he means to say them, but he doesn’t regret it. It’s the truth, after all, and he’s sure Tooru knows that. What he’d give to have that confidence …

“You better! I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t. I can’t survive with a broken heart, you know.”

“Sure, because one person not thinking you’re attractive would break your heart.”

“Despite what you may think, dear, I actually care a lot about your opinion.” It’s said in such a playful tone that he doesn’t quite believe it.

 _Dear_.

Oh, it meant nothing and he knows that.

“By the way,” he starts to distract from it, mainly, “I’m keeping it.”

Tooru furrows his eyebrows and looks up from his book in what he assumes is sheer confusion. “What, did you get a pet or something?”

“The duet. I’m keeping my part.”

He’s silent for a moment and his features relax into something harder to read; then, a smile. “I knew it. You wouldn’t give it up.”

“I was genuinely planning to,” Keiji argues, but Tooru shakes his head.

“I know, but you still wouldn’t. You’ve worked so hard for it, giving it up would mean throwing away your progress, and you wouldn’t do that. Besides, I have a feeling you really want to stand on that stage again, even if it’s scary. It’s what I wanted to do back then, at least … And we’re not all that different, I think.”

He didn’t even think about it that way. Does that make him wrong or right?

He supposes he has a point though, and it only serves to make him a bit happier he’s continuing after all. He’ll just have to watch out not to get too stressed … And get help with school.

“Either way, I’m glad you’re doing it. Who else am I supposed to support?”

“How many people are in our choir again?” he asks sarcastically, ignoring the heat rising to his cheeks once again. There was nothing to it, damn it. If anything, it’s a senpai-kouhai thing.

“You’re special!” he calls out, which doesn’t help his case. “Don’t get me wrong, I love all of my precious underclassmen, but you’re not just my kouhai. You’re my friend.”

Well, friend is better than nothing, he supposes. As long as he gets to be close to him, he doesn’t mind it either way. Besides, a strong romance can only spring from friendship … Or something …

Still, it hurts a little. Just a little.

He’s said it earnestly though, and he’s genuinely happy they’ve grown so close. “I appreciate that.”

“Is that a nice way to say ‘but you need to stay away from me’?”

“Oh god, please don’t,” Keiji answers with a pained grin when he thinks back to their on-and-off in the beginning. “It was so confusing when you ignored me and then pretended nothing happened.”

“Uhm, you were the one ignoring me, I just thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.” He pauses and sighs defeatedly. “Okay, fine, that and I didn’t like you. But I like you now, so let’s get all of that behind us and celebrate the today! By sleeping. You should go to sleep.”

“You know, you can say when you’re tired.”

Tooru frowns at him and ruffles his hair, a soft, lingering feeling that spreads through his skin rapidly. When did he get so sensitive to his touches? It’s not like he’s never been affectionate. “I’m never tired. I’m just saying, we should follow a human schedule.”

“You sound like an alien. Is that why you love space so much?”

He gasps dramatically, complete with a hand held to his mouth in shock, and Keiji can’t help but laugh. “Oh no! You found out my secret! That’s not good— I’ll need to take you back to my home planet now!”

Before he knows what’s happening, Tooru has put his book aside and is pulling on his shoulder with a comically serious expression on his face. “Quick, if you come with me now I’ll help you escape, but if the others find out, you’re going to get abducted and experimented on. My spaceship is …” He groans in realisation. “I left it at home!”

“How do you just forget a spaceship? Now we’re both screwed,” Keiji says and shakes his head, utterly disappointed at his alien friend’s lack of foresight. “We have to be careful now. Don’t drop any hints that I know about you.”

“Right, and when we’re back at Karasuno, we leave as soon as possible! I don’t want you to be in any danger.”

“I sure hope so. I don’t feel like dying anytime soon, even after that practice.”

They look at each other in silence for a moment until they burst out into laughter simultaneously. It takes them a while to gather themselves again, and Keiji’s grin feels like it’s permanently attached to his face now.

Tooru’s lying next to him on his side, looking at him with a smile brighter than the lights of the festival. “And when we’re back on my home planet, I’ll introduce you to everyone. It can never hurt to make alien friends.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting them, provided they aren’t the same ones who want to experiment on me.”

“Oh no, that’s just the military. The other guys are nice, I promise. And my sister makes really good pancakes. Actually, she taught me the recipe, so mine are also very good!” He has a smug look on his face while saying that, and Keiji doesn’t know just how much he trusts Tooru’s cooking skills. He’s leaning toward _not at all_. It must have shown on his face, because the next thing he hears is a very whiny, “What’s with that sceptical look? They really are good.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” If nothing else, they can’t be worse than Terushima’s toast (or rather failed, burned chemistry project that pretended to be toast).

“If I ever get around to making you breakfast, you’ll regret all of your doubts.” He yawns and stretches – only to flinch and hiss in pain when his hands connect with the wooden headboard too quickly.

“Beds have it out for you, don’t they?” he snarks. “Anyway, I’ll go take a quick shower now and get ready to sleep. If you need anything from the bathroom, get it now.”

“Or I can just wait until you’re done,” Tooru retorts, rubbing his hands.

“Or that. Just don’t hurt yourself again while I’m gone.”

“What do you think I am?”

“Very unlucky.” Reluctantly, he sits up and swings his legs over the bedside, blinking to get rid of the carousel in his head. He doesn’t see it, but he thinks Tooru is sticking out his tongue at him right now.

“Go take a shower, you dumb child.”

He spares him a retort about how he’s not much older than him in favour of heading for the bathroom, feeling light and happier than he has been in a while.

 

* * *

 

When Keiji wakes up, he’s on his back looking at the ceiling, it’s still dark in the room, and there’s an arm draped over his waist and a face nuzzling the side of his neck.

He blinks, disoriented and frankly a bit confused as to whether he’s still asleep and dreaming or has woken up, but it appears he’s awake, if frighteningly early. He can’t hear any birds singing outside and no light is shining into the room from behind the curtains. That means he can go back to sleep like nothing happened until his alarm goes off god knows how many hours later.

No, wait, stop. That’s not all there is to this.

Why is there a person snuggled up to him?

He turns his head and it takes all he has not to scream at the sight of Tooru at his side, sleeping soundly as if nothing happened and he’s not, well, _currently hugging Keiji in his sleep._

This is a big bed and they were reasonably far apart when they got in, so how did they end up so close? Keiji knows he moves a lot in his sleep, but he didn’t think it’d be this bad. He never fell out of his bed at home or at the hostel, and the latter especially was much smaller, so why is he lying in what he assumes to be the exact middle of this one? He supposes he can’t really blame Tooru for this happening if he was the one who moved in so close, but he’s going to anyway, because how the hell is he supposed to fall back asleep now that he knows that means letting this happen?

This is bad. This is really, really bad.

He doesn’t mind it in the slightest from his own perspective. It’s a bit warm, maybe, but nothing too bad, and it does feel very safe and comfortable and does strange things to his heart he doesn’t want to think about. But if they wake up to this … If _Tooru_ wakes up to this, it’s going to make for an extremely awkward morning and likely an even more awkward next night.

But he can’t exactly shove him away, right? He can try and go back to his own side, but he’s afraid to wake him up. This would be very hard to explain no matter the time.

Maybe, if he’s being extremely careful …

“Keiji?” a soft mumble comes from Tooru and he almost jumps straight off the bed.

He hasn’t even moved all that much, which means this is just hilariously bad coincidental timing – or some sort of twisted fate. When he tries to escape the embrace as subtly as possible, because maybe he won’t even realise the situation yet since he just woke up, he only ends up moving in even closer.

“D’n go …” he mutters and closes his eyes again to fall back asleep like nothing happened.

Keiji just stares at him with a racing heart and burning cheeks for a long, long time.

At that sleepover with Terushima and Mai, they were all cuddled up as well, mostly to not fall from the bed, but it was in no way comparable. Platonic cuddles he can do. Platonic cuddles are nice. But sleepy, emotional, affectionate cuddles with the person he definitely does not have solely platonic interest in? What is this, life trying to kill him by means of Oikawa Tooru being cute?

And the most important question is: should he hug him back? He can’t really move away anymore, in that short amount of time it took for Tooru to wake up just enough to mess with his feelings even more so than usual, he also seemed to have strengthened his hold on him. Reciprocating his possibly unwilling advances could either make the whole thing even more awkward or at least a bit more comfortable. No matter how little he actually minds being held by him, this position will most certainly end in someone’s arm falling asleep.

And this evening – yesterday evening? – was so nice and sweet, he thinks he probably wouldn’t even mind.

At the same time though … If he’s miscalculating the situation, it could make their relationship worsen. He shouldn’t make it weird.

The best choice would be to go back to his own damn side, which isn’t even an option at all with how he’s clinging to him now. He’s not entirely surprised at him being a cuddler, he just wishes it had manifested literally any other time.

Also, he’s cold. The blanket is draped over Tooru mostly – so much for Keiji being a blanket-hogger – and if he tries to pull it back to at least cover both of them, which shouldn’t be this much of an issue considering how close they are, he risks waking him up again.

Eventually, his body just makes a decision for him as he’s dragged back into sleep with no change to their position at all, and his last thought is Tooru’s incoherent ‘don’t go’, over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> accidental cuddling by means of bed-sharing is also a trope you can pry from my c o l d d e a d h a n d s


	21. Red Lips, Cold Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's that title? will it be important later? what song is it? who knows. :3
> 
> after these few very long chapters, it feels good to be back to 4k ... I missed writing a chapter and realising "oh hey if I cut this here I can actually post it already". 4k has started feeling short to me. if I told that to 2014 Nija, I'd be thrown into the sea and assumed to be insane
> 
> wow hey this chapter actually has some choiring! that's been severely lacking for a while, feels good to be back to it ... hey wait I've already said something like that in this A/N haven't I??
> 
> now that I think about it, this chapter feels in many ways like a new arc is starting ... well technically it has already started last chapter but now we're really getting into it. I wonder what people would call my arcs if this was an anime ... like really dumb cool names not just basic stuff. like "Akaashi Keiji doesn't know what he's just gotten himself into" arc.
> 
> tbh there's not much happening in this chapter but I think that's exactly why I like it? because the things that do happen are nice and sometimes you just need pointless fluff (as in, fluff to fill out the story, not the fanfic kinda fluff with the feelings and the cute). I mean a lot has happened recently. Keiji will never catch a break, but I will!
> 
> I've been looking at the Akaashi nendo for 15 minutes I need him in my life mY TOORU NEEDS HIM he's so cute I can't wait .......... but also I realised my phone screen is super bent and now I need a new phone so that money I saved up for a Switch and said Akaashi nendo once he's available for me is already as good as gone sobs ... at least my new one's gonna have more than 16GB, which is very easily taken up by two accounts of Love Live and one of EnStars ... don't get into idol games, kids, it's suffering
> 
> anyway this is a dumb A/N that's getting way too long so bYE HAVE FUN HELLO IF YOU'RE READING THIS HAVE A NICE DAY

The bed feels surprisingly big and empty when he wakes up.

To his own surprise, Keiji immediately realises he’s in the hotel room and sharing this bed with Tooru, rather than being disoriented as usual, but it seems his roommate has already gotten up. Or fallen off. Whichever one it is.

He thinks he hears water rushing in the bathroom, so he’s probably showering right now. A glance at the clock reveals they have more than enough time until breakfast – perhaps his nap yesterday wasn’t that good of an idea, especially coupled with getting to bed early, because clearly it screwed up his sleeping schedule somehow.

The next thing he notices is that he’s still lying in the middle of the bed, which means Tooru almost certainly woke up to them cuddling, or rather him clinging to Keiji like a monkey with severe abandonment issues.

Oh god, are they just going to pretend it didn’t happen? Or is he going to make fun of him? Admittedly, Keiji’s not at fault here, not counting the not being able to stay on his own side of the bed part, so if anyone here should be embarrassed it’s Tooru, but does Tooru get embarrassed? Has he ever seen him embarrassed? Not that he can remember.

He knows for a fact that he should probably get up and pick out his outfit for the day or something while the bathroom is still taken, but at the same time he really doesn’t want to. This is a comfortable bed, especially now that he has it all for himself including the blanket, which he must either have snatched away from Tooru during the night or after he already woke up.

Or maybe he tucked him up after waking, pulling the blanket over him so that he’d stay warm—

No. No, it’s too early for this. No further imagining. Not until he had breakfast. This kind of thing doesn’t do him any good and especially not on an empty stomach.

He lies there for a while, pondering the option of getting up while not getting up until the flow of water in the bathroom stops and a few minutes after, the door opens and Tooru comes out with a towel on his head and dressed in a very tacky shirt he can’t quite decipher the colour of. It’s not exactly _magenta_ , magenta doesn’t look as painfully bright. Some shade of pink or maybe just a deranged red, either way it’s not pretty, but too bright not to look away. If he goes outside like this, he’s practically a car accident waiting to happen.

It’s so painfully ugly it takes him a few moments to realise that he’s not wearing pants.

Okay, admittedly, it does seem like he’s wearing boxers at least, but that doesn’t make it much better, especially considering that the shirt is just long enough to hide them. What it does not hide are those _thighs_ , damn. He’s not sure if he should be envious or attracted. Tooru should give him his workout schedule, clearly he’s doing something wrong. Granted, most of what he’s been doing recently has been basic stuff at home and the occasional run to stay in shape, so it makes sense he wouldn’t be as muscular, but he feels like he’s losing here.

“Uhm, why are you staring at my crotch?”

Never mind, plan cancelled, he’ll just die instead.

“I-I wasn’t,” he stutters too quickly, and his cheeks feel like they’re going to melt. “I was just … I mean … Why aren’t you wearing pants?”

Skilfully done, Keiji. Absolutely wonderful.

“I forgot,” Tooru sing-songs, seemingly unfazed by any of this as he walks toward the bed with an innocent smile.

“You forgot to wear pants?” He raises an eyebrow at him.

“I forgot to bring them to the bathroom,” he answers and climbs onto the bed on what is supposed to be Keiji’s side. He supposes it doesn’t really matter anymore, considering he’s placed square in the middle. “Anyway, good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Didn’t think you’d be awake already, but that’s a pleasant surprise. Did you know that waking you up is very difficult?”

“You mentioned it.” He’s going to ignore that Sleeping Beauty comment in favour of not dying, though it’s hard when Tooru’s lying next to him, head propped up on one hand, with the innocent smile turning almost scheming.

“Speaking of waking up, I wanted to wait until you did but I really needed to take a shower and I didn’t know when you would … Did you set an alarm or anything, actually?”

He frowns. “Of course, I’m not stupid.” In fact, he should probably turn it off before it goes off even though they’re both awake. However, his phone is on the bedside table on what is supposed to be his side and Tooru is blocking the way. “Could you hand me my phone?”

“What, this thing?” He dangles the device over Keiji’s head, but when he reaches for it, he pulls back with a playful smirk. “Nope!”

“Hey! I need to turn that off.” He doesn’t want to come too close, but if he keeps holding his phone away from him, he might not have any other choice. At least it’s code-protected, so he probably won’t check it – he doesn’t know what kind of incriminating content is on there, but there has to be _something_ he doesn’t want people to see. Even if he can’t think of it right now.

“Then come get it,” Tooru sing-songs and stands up from the bed, holding the phone in his hand like a trophy. Now the question is whether he cares enough to stand up from the warm, comfortable bed, but he does want his phone – who knows what he’s going to do with it.

It’s decently warm in the room, but he still immediately regrets getting up and almost falls right back into bed. However, he’s standing up now anyway, so he might as well get his phone while he’s at it.

That could prove to be a challenge though, considering that the thief is still wearing that smug smile while he’s holding up the dang thing. He guesses their height difference is three centimetres at best, probably less, but it’s _just_ enough to be annoying when he’s trying to keep his phone from him, especially since he keeps avoiding him.

There’s a corner he could try and back him into, by the wall separating the bathroom from the bedroom, and it’s probably his best bet – but Tooru isn’t playing along, instead hushes around him when he realises what he’s attempting to do. At least he has him against the foot end of the bed now, not that that’s much of a success.

“What’s so important that you need to have it back for right now?” he asks in that purposefully obnoxious tone of voice.

“Nothing, I just don’t trust you with it,” Keiji shoots back, hoping to sound vaguely threatening. “With your luck, you’ll drop it down the balcony.”

They’re nowhere near the balcony, Tooru still trapped between him and the bed, and now they really are too close but he’s decided he doesn’t care right now if that means he’ll get his phone back. It was expensive, he can’t have it break because of his stupid games.

Keiji leans forward, Tooru leans back, further and further … Until suddenly there’s a hand at his hip, an expression on the other’s face that reads something like ‘oh shit’, and considerably little floor under their feet as they fall onto the bed, or rather Tooru falls onto the bed and drags Keiji down with him in a failed attempt to stay standing.

They don’t fall far, so it doesn’t hurt, but the sudden impact is anything but pleasant and he thinks he hears his phone dropping onto the mattress as well – thank god, at least not the floor.

Also, he’s currently lying on top of Tooru.

With his hand still on Keiji’s hip.

And their faces only centimetres apart.

In utter silence.

Can he die now, please?

“S-sorry,” he stutters after a long, awkward moment, but he receives no answer, just widened, chocolate brown eyes staring up at him like he’s currently witnessing a miracle.

Then, so quietly he’d have overheard it had there been any other sound in the room, Tooru whispers, “God, you’re beautiful.”

Before he can even process the sentence though, the shrill sound of a loud alarm clock makes him flinch and climb off him to sit up straight on the bed, and just like that their moment is lost.

The alarm is ear-piercing and way louder than he intended for it to be and he quickly scrambles for his phone to turn it off somehow, but it takes him a few seconds – which it wouldn’t have if Tooru had just given it back to him – before he finds it and saves them from permanent ear damage.

“Ouch! Out of all the things in the world, why would you use _this_ as your alarm?” he whines. “You have a smartphone! Use a song like normal people!”

“This is the only one that reliably wakes me up.” Now that he knows how hard he is to wake, it kind of makes sense.

“Okay, leave that part to me then, I’m setting the alarm tonight. Although you deserve to oversleep for that. What the hell, Keiji?”

He sounds so genuinely offended by that alarm it’s almost cute, and he would have smiled if it hadn’t been for the ring in his ears still tormenting him. Did he accidentally turn the volume up when they were fighting for the phone? That must have been it.

When they were fighting for the phone … And then fell down …

_God, you’re beautiful._

It’s only just now starting to dawn on him what he actually said.

_You’re beautiful._

He resists the urge to plant his face into a pillow and scream.

There’s no way that was genuine – even if he was in any way beautiful in his best moments, he literally just woke up and hasn’t even washed his face yet, let alone had coffee or something else that could make him resemble an actual living human being. But the way he said it … The tone of his voice, coupled with that almost dazed look in his eyes …

_Beautiful._

“Keiji? Are you still with me?”

He flinches at the sound of Tooru’s voice, innocent as if he what he said didn’t matter. It probably didn’t – just a slip of the tongue, that’s what it must have been.

“I’ll … Go to the bathroom,” he says, but his voice is trembling a bit. “When do we have to leave for breakfast again?”

“In half an hour, so don’t spend too long in there!”

“I’m not you, you know.” Yesterday evening, it really was thirty minutes. Whatever he was doing in there, Keiji did not know, but he has to assume it had something to do with his hair.

“What are you implying? I need to take my time to look as spectacular as I do every day …”

“Actually, I like you like this,” Keiji answers with a smile before he even realises what he said.

He’s not _lying_ , per se. Tooru’s hair is wild and tousled, but still looks soft to touch, and there’s a faint blush on his cheeks, either from showering too hot or from well-hidden embarrassment about what happened right there. It’s a natural look that reminds him of the end of autumn, one that would suit soft woollen sweaters and a hot cup of tea and quiet reading sessions in candlelight.

But he still shouldn’t have said that.

“Ooh?” He isn’t looking at him right now, only straight ahead at the bathroom alias his sanctuary to-be, but he can absolutely hear the mock surprise on his face. “You think I’m cute?”

“I didn’t say that.” It’s not a lie. He didn’t say it.

“Don’t worry, Keiji, a lot of people think I’m cute. That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Though coming from you, I’ll gladly take the compliment … Even more so than usual, anyway.”

He wants to ask him if he gets complimented on his looks a lot, but hiding in the bathroom seems like the more viable option right now, so he waves him off and hurries to the small room, swiftly closing the door behind him and breathing out slowly.

Four more days. He has four more days of this to get through, preferably without dying or making a complete fool of himself – although he might have already lost on that second one.

But it should be doable, right? He just has to watch what he says, stop engaging him in such stupid things, and focus on choir instead of his crush. Which was what he came here for in the first place; this isn’t some vacation, it’s a practice camp, and they need to get better. Tooru won’t be around when they get tortured by Ukai’s regimen again today, so at least he has that going for him.

That’s disregarding the fact that Terushima will be there, and knowing him, he’s absolutely going to press him for details on his precarious living situation.

Can he switch voices still? If he becomes a bass, maybe his range will accurately reflect his current level of control over himself, that being: very low.

 

* * *

 

Breakfast at the hotel is very nice, much better than at their hostel in Yukiyama. They have a big buffet to choose from and everything looks delicious, so Keiji ends up piling way too much on his plate and earns an amused side-gaze from Mai.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she says with a barely repressed grin. “Anyway, you really have to come to Monopoly tonight! It was intense.”

He hopes the look he gives her gets his point of _most certainly not_ across, but she isn’t having any of it.

“Come on, you can’t run away forever, and if I have to physically drag you to Teru-kun’s room!”

“Are you sure?” She’s small in stature and, judging from her condition when they were running, not particularly in shape. He doubts she could even drag him so much as a millimetre.

“Oh, don’t underestimate her,” Futakuchi, who’s sitting on the other side of the table holding a bread roll, says, a haunted look on his face that indicates he’s talking from experience. Sometimes he wonders what elementary school Mai was like, if she traumatised him like that.

Her grin grows wider at the statement and she swings around her knife like a sword while chuckling menacingly. “If I want something, I get it! Speaking of which, can I copy your history homework when you’re done with it, Aka-kun?”

“Have you even tried it yourself?” He’s not sure why he’s asking, he knows the answer.

“Nah, but I thought it’d be worth a try. Let’s work together on it then?”

“Man, I wish I had any courses with you two!” Terushima chimes in as he comes back from the buffet with even more things on his plate than Keiji. There’s a pineapple on there – where are they serving pineapples? He didn’t see them anywhere. “Then you could do all my homework.”

“Aren’t you a straight-A student?” Futakuchi snarks and Terushima sits down next to him solely to flick the side of his head, or so Keiji presumes.

The sound of Terushima getting good grades is a bit jarring though – he’s the last person he would have suspected to. They’ve never really touched on the subject, he only mentioned he’d be fine for exams, but he assumed that was more baseless self-confidence than anything. Perhaps he’s smarter than he appears to be.

“That’s amazing,” Mai deadpans and takes a sip of tea from her cup. “I’m not even straight.”

“Same,” he mutters more to himself, thinking back to Tooru underneath him, staring up at him with a wondrous gaze … No, definitely not straight. He did get good grades back in high school though. What happened to that?

“Anyway, do you know when we all get to practice together again?” Futakuchi asks. “Our asshole of a vocal coach didn’t even tell us his name. Or maybe he did and I just don’t remember.”

“Joint practice is starting tomorrow afternoon, which you would have known if you had paid attention to what Nekomata said at our last rehearsal at school.” He doesn’t bother looking at him, instead decides there’s enough bacon on his toast now and he can finally eat it. Perhaps he did take too much – at least it tastes as good as it looks.

Terushima snorts and ruffles Futakuchi’s hair, earning a death glare and a fist to his face that he narrowly avoids without his grin ever dropping. Once again Keiji wonders just what it is with those two. He can’t decide if he wants something like they have or if he’s fine without it.

His gaze involuntarily falls on Tooru, who’s sitting with some other second years a few tables away. He’s laughing at something Sawamura said, then gesticulates wildly as if exaggerating a mundane story, and the others join in easily. It seems like a fun conversation they’re having, and it’s apparent that while he doesn’t normally pay attention to their relationships, his upperclassmen are just as, if not more, tight-knit than their little group.

Part of him wishes he could be a part of that, know what it is that has them so entertained. He can picture Tooru putting his arm over his shoulders, pulling him close like Terushima does sometimes when he wants something from him, except that when Terushima does it, it’s nowhere near as exciting as the mere thought of that.

Maybe he’s a bit jealous of them.

“Hello, earth to Aka-kun?” Mai says and waves a hand in front of his face, leaving him blinking and momentarily confused. Right; he’s got his own friends to be entertained by. “What’re you staring at?”

She seems casual enough, but her smirk is laced with worry. Tooru obviously had no idea why she dislikes him so much, and he never got a decent answer out of her either. He has to know, though. It’s easy enough to forget when he’s with him, but her presence is always a reminder that she has something against him, something that makes it appear as if she wants to protect Keiji from him.

But she didn’t speak out against them searching for Bokuto together at the carnival, and she’s never outright told him not to spend too much time with him, so how bad can it be?

“Nothing. I was just … Wondering about our senpai.” It’s not a complete lie, at least.

“Oh, yeah, I wonder if those guys have done this before!” Terushima says with his mouth full, which gets him a disapproving stare from Mai.

“They haven’t, at least not according to what Tooru said.”

“‘Tooru’?” Futakuchi repeats with raised eyebrows. “There are people on a first-name basis with Oikawa-san? That’s new.”

Mai glances at him, her expression growing even more concerned. “That’s new indeed.”

It appears Terushima hasn’t told her about it, and he hasn’t really needed to talk about him to his friends lately so she really didn’t know, despite it being two weeks ago already. Now he feels a bit bad for it, but at the same time, what should he have said without making the conversation weird? “Well, he offered it, so …”

“Not. Fair.” Terushima points his knife at him, his pout betraying nothing. He’s really keeping quiet about Keiji’s crush on Tooru, huh? Perhaps he’s a better friend than he thought. “Senpai shouldn’t have a favourite! They should love us all equally. Like children.”

“‘Like children,’ said the guy who wants to get into Sawamura-san’s pants,” Mai deadpans and Keiji almost chokes on his drink. She has a point.

“Please don’t tell me that’s a daddy joke,” Futakuchi mutters, sounding very, very pained at the thought. Or maybe he’s just jealous. He can’t really tell.

“Only if you’re into that,” Terushima answers with a smug grin, nudging his side, and now it’s Keiji and Mai’s turn to exchange pained looks.

“Get a room,” she scoffs, but doesn’t get a response. To Keiji, she whispers, “Do you know if they’re together? I can’t figure it out.”

“I was hoping you’d know.”

“Dang it. Well, guess we’ll have to wait for the wedding.”

Oh god, for all he knows Terushima would make him his best man, and the wedding itself would be far too big for anyone’s liking provided they’re a relatively sane human being. He’s not looking forward to it. “I’d rather they tell us before that so I can cancel if necessary.”

“You wouldn’t do that anyway,” Mai says and her giggle sounds almost knowing.

He sighs deeply, looking at his friends continuing to bicker in what could be considered innuendos if you think about them hard enough, and can’t help his affectionate smile. “You’re right, I wouldn’t. But I’d think about it.”

 

* * *

 

Actually getting some sleep has benefitted him in many ways, one of them being that he actually recognises how he’s doing.

In fact, it’s only know that he realises that sometimes, just occasionally, he’s happy with how he sounds. Ukai has made them go through _Spica_ for the past two hours consecutively until they were all sick of it, but evening out the tiny kinks they had in there still has given Keiji more confidence as well. It’s easy to believe you’re capable of doing something when there’s actual visible process. Or audible, in their case.

There’s much improvement to still be had, especially on his own, but when they finally move on after what feels like an eternity, he feels like he’s going somewhere.

He’s started thinking back to the planetarium when he sings, but this time not of the view of the stars, but rather the feeling of Tooru next to him, watching them with him.

(It is a love song, after all.)

Perhaps that’s a little bit too sappy, but if it helps, he’ll gladly take it. He finds he’s starting to understand it a little bit more anyway, what the song is actually trying to say. His love might not be star-crossed, if he can even call it ‘love’, but right now, he feels like he wants to hold on to it.

_Skyward, carrying those feelings / overflowing in their hearts._

When they come back from lunch – they were the only ones there and he commends the kitchen staff for dealing with their strange schedules – Terushima sits down immediately and scribbles something into his sheet music, tongue sticking out a little in deep concentration. When he leans over to look at it, he finds him doodling little arrows into his _Blessed Children_ sheets with seemingly no rhyme or reason. When he finds Keiji giving him a confused look, he waves the paper around like it does anything to clear it up.

“This one here’s a crescendo, right?” he asks and makes it clear he absolutely did not listen to anything anyone has said.

“No,” Keiji answers with a sigh and points at the bar he’s talking about. “They specifically said not to do a crescendo.”

“A decrescendo then?”

“No, just stay with the same volume.” He has to admit he would have liked it better had they done something else there, as it’s a bit boring of a long held note, but they agreed not to, so that’s how they’re doing it. Sometimes less is more, he assumes, even if he disagrees.

“But that’s boring!” Terushima exclaims, sounding very offended. Honestly, sometimes he wishes he was as good at displaying his emotions as he is, because he’s feeling the exact same way.

He isn’t though, so instead he just says, “But that’s how it is.”

Soon enough, Ukai calls them together and they start singing again after quickly warming up their voice again. He thinks the latter is a tad bit unnecessary, but with how much they’re practicing, there’s no such thing as warming up too much.

The song they get stuck on this time is _A Song I’d Like To Sing_ once again, and he’s really starting to hate the title, as he would prefer singing literally any other song over this one. He wonders if the other voices handle it similarly – Mai hasn’t said anything about their coach, but if Tooru’s and Futakuchi’s words are anything to go by, the baritones are actually pretty well-off. Sometimes he’s glad he’s not a tenor.

Contrary to yesterday, they finish in time today, and Keiji is up and about to get food and go back to his room to take a shower when Terushima grips his shoulder much more violently than strictly necessary.

When he slowly turns his head, expecting the worst, he’s greeted with just that: a grin that’s saying, _You’re not going anywhere._

“Where d’ya think you’re going, ‘kaash?”

“To the … Dining hall?” Why does it sound so much like a question? It wasn’t supposed to be a question. It was supposed to be a firm _not with you, anyway_. But it wasn’t.

“I hope you know that after dinner, we’re playing Monopoly. On the terrace, not in my room this time, there were too many people. And you’re absolutely playing with us.”

“What if I don’t want to?” He knows the answer. Why even bother asking?

“What you want doesn’t matter. I’m getting back on Sakurai and if it’s the last thing I do, and I need your help for it. What was that about that game at Fukurodani?” He sings the last note, but he’s nowhere near as innocent as he tries to appear.

“I thought we agreed to never talk about that.”

“You thought wrong, we never said that. Now, dinner, then, Monopoly!”

As well as he got out of it the last few times, he has a feeling that this time, all of his protests will be in vain.

Okay, fine. He’ll play Monopoly. But if he plays, he plays to win.

“Bring it on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he's ready to slay. to quote Yukie from the Fukuroani audio drama: "Scary. Akaashi is scary." especially when board games are involved


	22. Flawless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this earlier but I didn't want to post it before midnight. because that would be breaking a tradition. and we can't have that
> 
> writing is ridiculous I had to split a chapter in half because the Monopoly session got too long can you bELIEVE THIS  
> anyway yes it's only gonna get worse from here on out. the real game hasn't even started yet, next chapter will be 99% intense Monopoly (the 1% I don't even know yet)
> 
> honestly writing this felt a lot like writing a sports scene ... just without the action. which is good, because I utterly suck at action. once I get to writing that dystopian AU (with three main ships / six different POVs! I'm excited for that but I won't start it before I've finished 3wl or else one of them will just stagnate until eternity) I will probably die
> 
> I also wrote a Mai oneshot for after the game to finally kickstart that damn side story collection I've been wanting to do, but I can't post it yet because the game isn't over yet. but it is coming! it'll shed some more light on her feelings toward Oikawa, although nothing absolutely specific so I won't be spoiling things ... anyway this isn't about that
> 
> this chapter just flew by ... I can't believe it's 4k7 long, it feels like 2k. also Tashiro finally starts playing some sort of role! I like Tashiro. and I just realised ... TaSHIRO ... KUROkawa ... white and black ... I see what you did there, Furudate. sadly Daichi doesn't fit the pattern. & while we're at it I'm sorry @Kurokawa for relegating you to being a placeholder that I didn't want to use another OC for ... forgive me I actually like you too
> 
> on an unrelated note I've been listening to STAR BEAT! ~Hoshi no Kodou~ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xE8HtTjAcyw) on repeat and I'm only mentioning that because it's a beautiful song and I want more people to listen to it, the build-up to the second chorus is just hnnnnggggh SO GOOD

When he arrives at the terrace, he finds that it’s both very big and very nice. It’s directly by the lake, in fact you can simply take one of the short staircases to sit down by the little beach, and just beyond the water there’s a small forest. It really does feel like they’re in a rural area, and he realises he missed it quite a bit. His home back in Fukurodani was on the outskirts of the city, so while it wasn’t completely out in nature, it was definitely closer to it than his apartment now, and even though he doesn’t mind the city noise all that much, he still appreciates quiet places like this.

Though he does have a sinking feeling it won’t stay quiet for long.

“Teru-kun! Aka-kuuun!” Mai calls as if on cue, running toward him and Terushima, waving. She’s wearing a bright smile and her hair in a braid that looks like it’ll be falling apart soon. When she stops in front of them, her grin turns triumphant. “Get ready to get dunked on, friends.”

“We haven’t even started playing,” Keiji says, but it doesn’t seem to make much of a difference to her.

“No need to, you can just give up now. There’s probably going to be more people around than last night, so I guess we’re doing teams again?”

“Looks like it.” Terushima shrugs. “Hm, do I want to be on a team with you or beat your asses …”

“Oh, no way in hell I’m teaming up with you again. We’re just gonna lose. Aka-kun, how ‘bout it?”

Is this about that game at Fukurodani again? Admittedly, he’d prefer to keep as many friendships as possible, so teaming up with one of them doesn’t sound like a bad idea. “I don’t mind it. How big were the teams last time?”

“Hey!” Terushima exclaims and pulls on his arm. “Why don’t you team up with me?”

“Well, Mai asked first.”

He sends her a death glare before turning away with crossed arms and a pout that would rival those of one Oikawa Tooru. “Hmpf! Fine. Hope you’re ready to _lose_.”

“Oh, looks like we already have a sore loser on our hands.” Mai puts her lower arm on Keiji’s shoulder to appear smug, but with their height difference, she just nearly falls over.

“Again, we haven’t started yet.”

Is Terushima going to lose? Absolutely. But he can’t know that yet. He has to have a little hope or he won’t play earnestly, and a win gotten out of someone who isn’t trying doesn’t feel like a win. Then again, it’s Terushima they’re dealing with, he doubts he even has a ‘not trying’ mode.

Slowly but steadily, the terrace fills with more people, among them Futakuchi who Terushima immediately jumps at and forces into his team, from the looks of it. Monopoly from hell seems to be a quite popular event, and the one bringing the actual game with him is no other than director Nekomata himself. He also has with him several students and vocal coaches to carry a stunning amount of beverages, both alcoholic and not.

Keiji has never liked the idea of alcohol; losing control in such a way scares him, and drunk people aren’t exactly the most comfortable to be around. Sometimes it can lead to funny situations, but most of the time he’d rather stay far away from alcohol, both to not ruin the others’ fun and to protect himself. But it looks like this time around, he has no place to run, and he does still want to win that Monopoly game.

“Hm, with this amount of people, two people might not be enough,” Mai muses, looking around. “I think Teru-kun’s about to snatch Sawamura-san, so he’s out … Where’s Yumi-chan?”

He can’t see her anywhere, but he does see Tooru chatting with one of the fourth years near the staircases. If he’s on a team with Mai though, he’s not the safest bet, and he does kind of want to see him lose. The people he’s usually with either have already been asked or don’t seem to be here at all though.

“What was your team last time you did this?” Maybe he can take the opportunity to make some new friends; he’s been fairly isolated in his typical friend group after all, and they’re a big choir.

“Oh, Yumi-chan was there … And Sawamura-san … And Teru-kun.” Okay, she’s not better off than he is.

Before he can ask anything else, Tooru spots them and waves them over, much to Mai’s dismay. Dismai.

“Yahoo! Keiji! Mai-chan! Want to join our team?”

His expression betrays no knowledge of her grudge against him whatsoever, and it makes him wonder how good of an actor he truly is. If he’s played in a musical, he has some training, and it seems to come fairly easily to him. He wants to believe he’s honest with Keiji, but sometimes he can’t help but ponder the possibility that he isn’t.

The person he was talking to turns out to be Tashiro, who looks a bit embarrassed at his conversation partner basically shouting over the terrace, but at least he’s someone Keiji has talked to before and if he is the other person in said team, it might not be a bad choice. Tashiro, however, was also the one that got Terushima hurt with a Monopoly figure his teammate from back then hurled at him, so maybe ‘not a bad choice’ is relative in his case.

“Sure, I’d love to!” Mai says in an extremely fake happy voice. Great, now he has two people pretending to play nice.

“Wonderful! I wouldn’t have accepted a no anyway. Because,” Tooru responds and puts an arm around Keiji’s shoulder, a gesture that leaves him both annoyed and even more annoyed at his own racing heart, “I need Keiji on my team, no matter what. I’m not here to lose!”

“Why are all of you placing your hope on me? Just because I won that one game doesn’t mean I’m a master at Monopoly. You’ll just be disappointed.” It’s not entirely true – he is extremely good at the game, at least at the managing aspect. He might be broke in real life, but if he had the money, he’d know how to soundly invest it. Still, way to pile pressure on him. He does want to win, but he’d appreciate if his teammates actually did some things as well.

Tashiro laughs awkwardly and he can’t blame him. This situation has a weird atmosphere around it. “I’m sure we’ll do just fine. And if we don’t, well, it’s just a game …” He immediately shuts up when he receives three angry glares. At least they’re on the same page here: it may be a game, but their _pride_ is on the line. No time for ‘just’ when you’ve got to win. He thinks he hears him mutter “oh lord” under his breath, but he can’t be sure.

Tooru isn’t showing any signs of planning to remove his arm anytime soon, and it keeps Keiji in a very conflicting state of mind. Yes, it’s a very comforting place to be at and he certainly won’t complain about his crush holding him close, but no, it’s definitely not the weather for this. The inside of the hotel is air conditioned, but it’s pretty hot out here and if this goes on, he’s going to melt. The question is whether he’s able to withstand the heat – and Mai’s unsubtle stare that feels like it’s burning a hole into him.

This is how he’s going to die. A puddle on the terrace, but one that couldn’t make up its mind. At least he has a nice view.

Mai disappears into the crowd, allegedly to get them something to drink, though she didn’t ask them what they wanted so who knows what she’s going to show up with. Tashiro hurries over to one of the vocal coaches to ask her something, and Keiji is still not sure about whether he wants to get away from him or not.

“Sorry about this,” Tooru mutters, a smile playing on his lips. “I wouldn’t have picked Mai-chan, but you looked like you already made up your mind on that, so …”

“You could have just gone with someone else completely.” Unlike Keiji, he actually knows these people. Well, Keiji _knows_ them, but most only peripherally.

The noise he makes at that sounds vaguely offended at him even considering the idea. “What? No way. I want to win.”

“That’s all I am to you, a tool to win Monopoly,” he deadpans and earns a soft laugh that sends shivers down his spine.

“ _Technically_ I’m supposed to only see humans as an enemy to my alien race and possibly an object of experimentation, but I think you’re the exception.”

“Careful, didn’t we agree not to say anything about that out loud?”

“Dang it, you’re right, we can’t let our guard down,” Tooru agrees, disregarding the fact that he was the one who brought it up in the first place. “Anyway, my point is, you’re _absolutely_ a tool to win Monopoly to me. That’s not all there is to it, but I won’t deny the truth.”

“Isn’t it?” he mutters, but he doesn’t think he’s heard it. Louder, he says, “Could you please let me go? It’s getting warm.”

He’s almost proud of him for not making a dumb joke about being hot and instead just following his instructions for once in his life – that is until he realises he has no intention of letting him go, just lets his hand drop to Keiji’s waist, which is a little less warm, but significantly more dizzying. Maybe it’s a good thing he’s doing it, because he feels like he’s going to pass out. Or throw up. Or both.

However much he wants to believe it’s a purely affectionate gesture, he knows exactly what Tooru is playing. “You really want to make Mai angry, don’t you?”

The way he feels him wincing beside him tells him everything he needs to know.

“I know this is somehow all about me, but I’d still prefer if you kept me out of it,” Keiji says, even though it makes no sense, at least it’s mostly a coherent sentence and his voice even sounds normal. Maybe it’s the atmosphere on the terrace, but he feels like he’s able to keep his composure with him better than usual.

“It’s not that I want to piss her off, I just …” His voice is painfully sincere, and there goes his composure because now his brain is suggesting all sorts of endings to that sentence again, none of which are in any way likely, but all of which are increasingly cheesy. “I think she’s being unfair. You can choose your own friends, whether she likes it or not. I still have no idea what she has against me, but whatever it is, it won’t stop me from wanting to spend time with you.”

(Suddenly he’s way more aware of the body next to him, warm and comforting even in the summer heat.)

“She knows that,” he says, shaking his head to get rid of the feelings fluttering up in his heart. It doesn’t really help. “But I like you both, and I won’t choose one over the other. I think she’s trying to not let it show too much, for my sake.”

Saying it like that, it sounds so selfish.

“Guys, we’re starting!” someone yells and interrupts their conversation right when Mai comes back with a disapproving scowl on her face and two bottles of what he assumes to be water in her hands while Tashiro behind her is carrying a plate full of food. Whichever one of the two thought ahead like that deserves to get praised – he has a feeling this is going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

He’s proven right as soon as they get to choosing the little figures they want to play with, if it can still be called that. Nekomata has done the smart thing and taken to managing the bank, watching the chaos unfold, while there’s already people screaming and he thinks he sees Terushima near tears, complaining about something to Futakuchi. Keiji could not possibly care less about their playing piece, but Mai is very vocally arguing with Tooru about which they should choose. He and Tashiro exchange a look, knowing full well that it’ll eventually come down to whatever is left anyway.

But the playing piece doesn’t matter when it comes to winning. As long as they get to play, they’re fine.

“No, we’re taking the dog,” Mai insists, crossing her arms and stomping her foot. Since he’s sitting on the floor, she actually looks kind of menacing like that. “Last time I won was with the dog. Do you want to win or what?”

“The dog is bad luck! I’ve never won with the dog! Besides, leave that to Dai-chi, Dai-chi loves dogs,” Tooru argues, looking equally as serious.

“I don’t care what Sawamura-san likes, I’m taking the dog and you’re going to be fine with it!”

“Actually, someone already took …” Tashiro’s voice fades out quietly upon realising that nobody is listening to him. If he wasn’t his senpai, Keiji would pat him on the shoulder for comfort now.

There’s some other things – such as a pen cap, a very ugly pendant, and an eraser – doubling as pieces as well, since they’re more people than they should technically have. It looks like the rules are a bit different as well, but he’ll just have to go along with it as long as they’re consistent. Looking at the other choices out there, his hand wanders to his necklace, pulling it from under his shirt and looking at it for a moment. It would be the perfect size, and there’s nothing like it on the board yet …

But what if it gets lost? He doesn’t like that thought at all.

“Oh, that’s a pretty necklace,” Tashiro says and points at it. “Where did you get it?”

“It was … A present.” He smiles fondly at the memory, small as it is. Thinking back, it probably wasn’t that big of a deal, but the thought of someone being reminded of him upon seeing something, especially if that someone is the person he has feelings for, warms his heart still.

“Someone you care about?”

“Mhm.” _Very much so._

“Hey! Who took the dog?” someone is shouting from the other side and Mai flashes them an innocent grin, waving the playing piece around. Looks like she won that argument … Or just didn’t care. “That was _ours_! You can’t just take it!”

“I can do whatever I want. Now are we gonna start or what?”

He has to hand it to her, her voice can definitely have the property to make someone shut up without even sounding all that menacing. No wonder Tooru lost.

In order to find some way of playing with this amount of people, there’s only a few people crowded around the board itself while their teammates sit behind them, a bit like they’re the team representatives and everyone else helps guide them. He supposes it makes sense, but quickly realises the stares from all three of his teammates, six eyes telling him that he has no other choice but to be their frontrunner.

Well, he’s fine with it. If they want to win, they need him anyway, so he might as well play captain for a change.

Mai sticks her tongue out at Terushima across from them, who in return runs a finger across his neck. Ah yes, this could get murderous. Good thing they have Keiji.

“Let’s beat them all, but especially Dai-chi!” Tooru announces like some sports captain and Tashiro nods surprisingly vehemently. He has seen him talk to Sawamura quite regularly, but never paid them any mind, and now he can’t help but wonder what their relationship is. It doesn’t seem to have to do with Tooru either.

Well, then, for Tashiro’s sake, he has to win too.

 

* * *

 

They’re five minutes in, a song proudly announcing the end of love is playing in the background, and Terushima’s team is already in debt. He doesn’t quite know how they did it, but they did.

That also means they snatched all of Keiji’s targeted streets before them, which kind of puts them in a bad spot, but as long as they have money, they can buy them back. However, the chance cards seem to have been tampered with, or, judging from the others’ reactions, have been like this ever since this Monopoly thing started. Kurokawa’s team had the misfortune of pulling one that had them switch all of their 10$ bills with potato chips. Why, he does not understand, but he hopes it won’t happen to him.

It’s their turn now, and thankfully the dice are normal at least. He rolls a 4 – landing them on a community chest spot. Time to test his luck, here goes …

The card seems to be one that’s actually from the game, which is only a relief until Mai, who’s diagonally behind him, takes it from him and reads out loud, “Pay hospital … 100$. Well, fuck you too.”

“Are you sure?” Tashiro asks, but to no avail. All they receive is laughter and Nekomata ordering them to put 100$ in the middle of the board.

“Don’t mind, we can’t all be winners,” Futakuchi snarks and Keiji almost throws his figure at him. He’s starting to understand how Terushima got injured that one time.

“Says the one who’s in so much debt he should have been kicked out already,” Tooru shoots back. “At least we know not to spend all of our money in the first five minutes.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna lose it all without even spending one dollar,” Tachibana, who’s sitting behind Kurokawa with a smug grin, says, unfazed by the grimace Tooru makes at her, and it makes him want to buy the next street they land on even if it’s complete garbage just to prove her wrong. But he has to keep his composure or they’ll end up like Terushima. It’s not such a bad thing giving them the idea that they can win and then crushing them when they least expect it, so he reaches behind himself to tap Tooru’s shoulder in attempt to wordlessly tell him to calm down. He appears to understand.

“Just you wait,” he mutters so quietly he doubts anyone beside the three of them heard it. “We haven’t even started yet.”

“ _You’ve got a perfect track record but nothing to show_ ,” the guy on whatever CD that is sings and he hopes it’s not a bad omen.

This hope is crushed three turns later.

“Go directly to jail,” Mai reads from the chance card, sounding what can only be described as utterly _incredulous_. “Do not pass Go, do not collect 200$.”

All they’ve done these past turns has been lose money, even the 200$ when they passed Go once had to immediately be paid back when they landed on a train station owned by that jerk from the mezzo soprano section he can’t remember the name of, and now this.

“Oh, fuck me,” he murmurs.

Tooru leans forward to hug him from behind, an action that he normally would have reacted to by freaking out internally but now is nothing but comforting, considering that the idea of trying out one of those alcoholic beverages doesn’t sound all that unappealing anymore and he’s firmly convinced some god of luck has it out for him. “I mean, we could …”

It takes him a moment to register what the hell he’s talking about, and even when he does it doesn’t settle in completely. “What?”

“What?” Tooru repeats, equally as confused, and he sees him shaking his head from his peripheral vision. “Anyway, what I meant is that maybe we could gather our thoughts and observe how the others play while we’re in jail.”

Okay, that makes more sense than … Whatever else it sounded like he suggested …

_God, you’re beautiful._

Why is he remembering that right now?

The glare that Mai sends them, while clearly directed at Tooru, feels like it’s burning a hole in his skin.

“Does that really matter at this point?” Tashiro asks while moving their adorable little dog to the confines of prison, where it will live off bread and water and probably be treated terribly by its fellow inmates, unless they take mercy on it because dogs are good and most people know that. “We have much bigger problems than how they’re playing.”

“Kind of,” Keiji has to agree. “We’re running into roadblocks left and right.” There’s got to be a way to break through, though. He’s here to win, not to get ridiculed by his opponents for a streak of bad luck. And that’s what it is – a streak that’s going to end eventually. Perhaps it culminated in their being sent to jail and it’ll be all up from here.

“We can’t lose hope!” Mai insists, sounding much more enthusiastic than she looks. Perhaps the latter is because Tooru is still holding him, and he can’t see his face as he’s spectating the others’ plays but he’d bet his entire rent money for this month that he’s fighting a battle of deadly gazes with her right now. It’s a bit frustrating; what is he, a Monopoly playing pawn in a strained relationship he doesn’t understand?

“That’s the spirit,” he mutters to himself regardless, and the hold around his waist tightens just a little bit. Mai is probably going to strangle them eventually.

(Even despite that thought, it’s easy to melt into the touch, but he tries to keep his composure as to not get killed.)

In the next turn, he notices a few things.

Terushima’s team is selling some of their streets to get a little bit of money back, but still playing risky and spending far too much money. He’s surprised to see Sawamura go along with it, but he seems to be just as into this as the rest of them. They’re going to slay in the lategame if they make it that far, that’s for certain.

Kurokawa’s team is the exact opposite. They play too safe, hardly spending anything, but since they’re not buying they can’t make money either. They’ve also been the ones most affected by chance and community chest cards so far. It’s like they’re playing a luck-based card game rather than Monopoly.

Everyone else seems to have at least some semblance of rationale in their play, and they’re not taking it as seriously as those two teams. If he had to summarise their own playstyle, it would be … Well, having terrible luck, but the way he actually _wanted_ to play was with a specific plan in mind, one that would have guaranteed them a successful balance of spending and income. They could have profited off Kurokawa especially, but Terushima is their natural enemy in this scenario. Since they’ve taken so much, most of his desired locations are off the table.

Add that to their bad luck and they definitely have to change plans.

“You look like you’re thinking,” Mai says. “Got an idea?”

“I know the problem, but I’m not sure how to fix it.” Terushima won’t let them buy the streets he’ll actually want off them, so that’s out. Unless they start pulling one of those rumoured amazing unofficial chance cards Tashiro mentioned before the game, they’re in a bad spot. “Do something, Tooru.”

“Why me?!” He can’t see his offended expression, as he’s too focused on the game to turn around, but it’s all too apparent from his voice.

“Good point. Why him?” she scoffs. “We can figure this out on our own.”

“Well, we’re all a team …” Tashiro says but once again, his words trail off. Keiji feels like telling him at least one person is listening, but he doesn’t feel like it right now. Instead he opts for leaning back against Tooru a bit in hope of appeasing him.

“If any of you have an idea, I’m all ears. We need something to get out of this situation.”

“Like doublets?” Mai asks when Kurokawa hands her the dice. “I’ll get us out of here in no time flat, don’t you worry. Mai’s got this under control.”

That’s what she says, but she proceeds to roll a 1 and a 6, about the furthest thing from doublets they could possibly get. He’s starting to honestly consider quitting. But he can’t do that, so instead he reaches for the bowl of potato chips on the table near them and decides that if he won’t drink, he can at least eat his worries away.

“Getting frustrated, ‘kaash?” Terushima says upon seeing it, and he has half a mind to stick his tongue out at him.

One more round passes without much ado, but the pile of money in the middle of the board is growing bigger and bigger. The end goal is to have the most money whenever they decide to call it quits, so landing on the Free Parking spot and getting all of that would be a huge boost to both their confidence and their current stand in the ranking. It’s not exactly something you can aim for, but …

“Mai, do you know a good way to influence the dice?”

Tashiro gasps softly. “Are you saying you want to _cheat_?”

“I’m saying I want to help us out.” How much can they get away with without anyone noticing? With all eyes on them, it’s going to be difficult, but if he trusts anyone in their team to know how to pull off such a move, it’s Mai. Tooru comes in at a close second, but he’s one hundred percent certain that if she can’t do it, no one can.

“I like that attitude. Buut … I tried that last time, and …” She coughs awkwardly, and when he looks at her, it’s almost like she’s avoiding to look at Nekomata. “Got penalised to run three laps. When I came back, my team was bankrupt.”

So that’s out then. He doesn’t like relying on sheer luck, but he has to admit that they’re already far behind. They most likely won’t lose entirely, but they won’t win either, and winning is what he came here for.

If he can make any of their biggest enemies quit the game somehow … There’s no rule that when you go totally bankrupt, you have to leave if you still have streets to sell, but driving Terushima into a corner still sounds like the best plan. If they can snatch away the streets they still need they could minimise the damage done through houses, and there’s one train station as well as the water works and the electric company out in the open. The latter two especially could become important.

The dice get handed back to them and this time, it’s Tashiro trying his luck. Keiji’s eyes follow them only half-heartedly, mind still focused on what to do once they get out, so that he almost doesn’t realise what he’s rolling.

“5 and …” Tooru stops mid-sentence before gasping. “5! Doublets!”

“Damn it, I wanted to do that” Mai mutters.

“Is this your luck turning?” Sawamura asks with a smile that speaks of a challenge. “You still won’t win.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Keiji responds quietly and moves the figure ten steps ahead – right onto Free Parking. “We’ll be taking all of that then, thank you.” He smiles back at him as coldly as he can muster when he’s actually feeling pretty enthusiastic, and just like that, it looks like the tables have turned.

Having Tashiro on their team seems to have been a solid choice. He’ll have to thank Tooru for it later, but now there’s no time. Now all that matters is to ride this wave of luck as long for as it goes on and destroy everything in their path.

Time to break some hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good god I hope I don't have to split the next chapter too I can see this going on for a while


	23. Don't Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all of a sudden it's become very difficult for me to keep my chapters at 4ksomething. this one is 5k6 again. w h y
> 
> in the end the game turned out a bit shorter than planned but I kinda set myself up for that by slamming terrible luck into their faces right from the get-go and recovering from that is very very difficult
> 
> tbh I have no idea how good this chapter is. because I'm tired. dead tired. I'm home alone atm which would be good if it didn't mean waking up early to walk the dog and Nija + waking up early = death and destruction so I'm just going to shut up and go to sleep good night world

The look of utter betrayal on Terushima’s face is one he should probably take a photo of and frame, but he has neither his phone nor the time. Nekomata is visibly trying to hold back his laughter, and he feels Tooru chuckling behind him more than he hears it, the vibration of his chest against his back leaving a tingling sensation even through the fabric of his shirt.

What he does hear is Mai.

“Take that, suckers!” she shouts and waves their newly acquired wad of fake cash around before slamming it all on the ground with the rest of their money. Keiji feels like joining in, but at the same time he needs to keep his composure, so he stays silent, only giving Terushima a cold smile.

“Now, now, don’t get too carried away,” Sawamura chimes in, and his friendly demeanour fools absolutely nobody as he takes a glass bottle of what looks to be lemonade and snaps it open in what can only be described as a murderous fashion. Keiji didn’t think he’d ever be intimidated by someone opening a bottle, but here he is.

The next few rounds pass without much ado – on their side, at least. Jerky mezzo soprano’s group pulls a custom community chest card that has them pay 500$ to Kurokawa, who promptly loses them again when he, too, pulls a custom card that has them put 1000$ in the middle. Its description was something like _You broke the windows with your singing_ , but he doesn’t give half a damn. Descriptions are just that. What counts are the results.

Over the course of it, people are starting to finally drink from that alcohol supply, but thankfully nobody from his team is among them. Terushima though … He’s a bit afraid of what he’s going to be like, to be honest. The thought of him on caffeine is already bad enough.

It’s growing a bit too warm slowly but surely, but at the same time he doesn’t want for Tooru to let him go. Their position is growing increasingly comfortable; he’s a bit like a living backrest, except that his head is resting on Keiji’s shoulder by now as they’re spectating the game. Keiji might be the one sitting in front, but since they’re so attached to each other, Mai is probably the one doing more of the work. Honestly, he’d prefer Tashiro, he was the one who got them out of jail after all.

After a while, they finally land on the water works, took them long enough. “We’re buying that,” he says without paying much attention to his teammates, and he hears Tooru’s low hum by his ear, leaving him a little breathless. Still, this hasn’t been affecting him much so far, he won’t let it start to now.

“The water works? Don’t tell me you’re going for the electric company,” Tashiro murmurs. “What are we supposed to do with that?”

“Make money of course,” he replies when Mai takes the card Nekomata hands them. “Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

It’s not entirely true, but their team morale is important, and he does have a vague idea of what to do. First, the electric company. Then, the last train station. Minimising their potential loss is paramount in this situation.

Quite annoyingly, the others now know about their plan though, so they should try and get the electric company as soon as possible before someone else steals it away. He’ll have to pray for luck to have shifted in their favour by now, or else everything falls apart again.

“Let’s not forget that this is a chance game,” Tooru warns. “Are you sure your plan is actually doable?”

He sounds like he knows exactly that Keiji does not, in fact, have a solid plan, and he has half a mind to escape from his embrace and hide behind Mai instead. Is he implying he doesn’t know how to play Monopoly? He’s _good_ at this game.

At least that’s what he thinks until that godforsaken mezzo soprano lands on the electric company and, with the least innocent of smiles he has ever seen, wordlessly hands out a bunch of money to Nekomata.

“You can’t do that,” he protests, as calmly as he can manage (read: not very).

“And why can I not?” She flips her long brown hair like a damn anime character and he does not miss the middle finger she’s holding out to him all the while.

_Stay. Calm._

“Careful, Ikari,” Tooru shoots back in a voice far too intimidating for Monopoly. “Don’t pick a fight with the wrong people.”

“Boo-hoo, _senpai_.” He cringes at her tone, all ridiculous and completely lacking any sort of respect. She’s a first year like him, who does she think she is? Game night or not, they do have standards.

The others seem to agree with that train of thought, as she gets a lot of distressed looks, but she doesn’t seem to care. Well, looks like she’s just made herself a few enemies, Keiji’s team most definitely included.

“What a bitch,” Mai mutters, and the lack of a calming comment from Tashiro speaks volumes.

But no matter how much of a bitch she is, she took the electric company and therefore blew a gaping hole in his plan. There’s no way to get it back, and by now there’s not even any street groups still completely open. They won’t have a full set unless they manage to buy one from Terushima, but his group has been getting a bit more money ever since building a house. So much for slaying in the lategame – they’re already starting to make back what they lost.

No amount of luck is going to help them if they can’t invest.

“How cute, she thinks she’s something special,” Tooru says quietly and has the audacity to laugh. “See, this is why you’re my favourite, Keiji. But no worries, we’ve got this under control.”

“We don’t,” he deadpans and points at Tachibana, who is currently buying the last street of a rather expensive set and immediately building a house.

The silence from the rest of his team is deafening.

After a moment, Mai clears her throat. “Uhm, anyway, anyone want beer?”

She didn’t strike him as a person who would drink beer; then again, he can’t see anyone actually drinking that stuff. If it tastes anywhere near as bad as it smells, he has to wonder how it hasn’t died out centuries ago.

“We don’t need alcohol to win,” Tashiro argues. His unspoken words of _because as it stands, we can’t win at all_ hang in the air, easy for all of them to hear.

But they can’t give up now. Quitting the game would be the easy way out. He came here to win, and by god he is going to win.

Now he only needs to know how to do it.

Their next dice roll sends them to a chance card spot, and it’s a custom one this time around. “Your idol game addiction has cost you your rent money, so you got thrown out. Sell one of your streets … And pay the money to the bank …” Mai grows slower and slower until she stops completely. “That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Who cares if it makes sense?” Futakuchi snarks. “Do you even have any streets to sell though?”

They do not, in fact, have any streets. The only thing vaguely resembling one is …

“We are _not_ handing over the water works,” he insists, but Nekomata shakes his head.

“It counts as a street.”

“No it doesn’t, does this look like a street?” He picks up the card and waves it around. “Just because you can buy it doesn’t mean it’s a street.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to listen to your director?” Sawamura asks with a very smug smile that he very much wants to wipe from his face.

Mai makes a sound he doesn’t completely understand, but what he does understand is that she’s just as unpleased with this development as him. “Of course the water works aren’t a street. They’re a building.”

“They’re standing on a street though,” a first year who he thinks is that Sakurai Terushima wanted to beat pipes up.

“Yes, but we don’t own the street, just the building,” Keiji argues, but to no avail. Nekomata doesn’t budge, so eventually he has to hand over the card he was placing all of his hopes in – and by now they might as well give up.

The song in the background is going “ _it’s over now / and the curtain has closed / and the story is over_ ” and he wants to murder the audio player.

“Fuck you, it’s never over,” he mutters instead, earning a snort from Mai.

“Language,” Tooru reminds him, but he really, absolutely does _not_ care right now.

“You didn’t give a damn about it earlier, don’t start pretending now.” He would usually consider himself a polite person, but there are situations that just call for swearing and this is one of them. His tone of voice must have relayed that thought perfectly, because he immediately shuts up.

As soon as jerky mezzo soprano whose name is apparently Ikari’s team gets the dice, they roll themselves directly onto one of the streets Terushima’s team was needing. He thinks he sees Terushima shed a tear when she buys it, and Sawamura pats his back reassuringly, but isn’t looking at him. Instead, he fixes her with a gaze that, if it had been able to kill, would have definitely gotten him sentenced for murder. Next time Keiji wants him on their team. He seems to have understood the gravity of the situation.

They’re sitting opposite the bank, so stealing from that is out. Even if they had the chance, Nekomata would probably catch them. But it’s clear they’re not going to win by conventional means – perhaps they could snatch some money from the teams near them? Or pour them some more of those alcoholic drinks, until they’re too intoxicated to notice they’re being robbed.

He wouldn’t usually resort to such methods, but his pride is on the line. He is not going to lose this game after everyone had such high hopes in him. At the Fukurodani game, luck was in his favour and very much against his fellow players, but it was also his well thought out style of playing that got him the victory. Building up a solid foundation to expand upon in the later parts of the game is the most important thing.

In this match, though, it’s obvious they’ve missed that first part due to nothing but sheer bad luck. He absolutely hates it – what are they playing, poker?

Their little dog is starting to look very miserable when it keeps landing on someone else’s space, because honestly, what _isn’t_ someone else’s space at this point, and it accurately reflects Keiji’s mood. He hardly even notices Tooru behind him anymore, there are really more important things right now than this stupid crush of his, it’s not going to win him this game so he cannot be bothered with it at all at the moment. Tashiro seems like he’s going to cry any moment now, Mai has taken to insulting everyone and everything in the most imaginative ways he has ever heard, and as it turns out, a drunk Sawamura has a similar approach to life. Surprisingly, Terushima is only drinking water, but at this point, he almost wishes he was drunk as well. Maybe he’d do something really dumb that’d lead to the whole game being flipped upside down.

Their former status of _not winning, but not losing_ is slowly but surely going down the drain as they can’t make money but keep having to pay, and before he knows it someone mentions it’s 2 AM and they should really stop playing, Terushima’s team has left everyone else in the dust, and the money he got from that free parking situation has almost entirely disappeared, leaving them with 250$ total.

“No,” he protests when Nekomata is about to call it quits. “We’re not done yet.”

Futakuchi laughs, like an evil king in some overrated anime. “What, you won’t quit until you reach zero?”

“Pay us,” he demands without knowing why. In fact, he doesn’t know anything. No, wait, that’s not entirely correct; he does know that he’s not leaving before he has won.

“Yeah, Futa-kun, pay us, you bland bowl of oatmeal!” Mai agrees very loudly, her words a bit slurred. She hasn’t drunk all that much, so it appears she’s just bad at holding her liquor. “The greater serves for the lesser! Or some bullshit like that! So! Give us your money!”

“All of those hotels need managers, right?” Tooru proposes, although that’s maybe a bit too friendly of a word. He sounds more like he’s threatening his life.

“G-guys, it’s okay that we’ve lost …” Nobody listens to Tashiro. Of course not. Tashiro doesn’t know a thing. Tashiro thought this was all about friendly competition. He seems to have forgotten the things that have spawned from this. Compared to what the other sessions sounded like, this is tame, even. At least no Terufuta situations have come out of this one yet, that’d need someone complaining about bad kisses or whatever the hell that was that he can’t be bothered to remember.

Maybe if he kisses Terushima he’ll pay them? Hold on, that counts as prostitution, doesn’t it? Or is it more like a kissing booth at school, which … Could technically still count as prostitution if you think about it too hard. He doesn’t particularly _want_ to kiss his best friend, but that tongue piercing has got to be good for something, and if it gives him one last shot at winning then he absolutely will try it.

But there’s no way Terushima would pay him for that, he’d probably just take it and run, that bastard.

He could kiss Tooru instead and charge the people watching, it’d be a win-win situation for everyone, well, except the people who have to pay, and maybe Tooru because who knows if he actually wants that, so it’s actually just a win-win situation for Keiji but god damn it, he does not care. Now how do you relay that to people? It’d be more of a strip club light than prostitution light, or something …

“Now, now, there’s still next time. No need to look like you’re considering murder,” Tachibana, who apparently does not know he’s not contemplating murder but rather the complete opposite – if he equates kissing to sex and sex to procreation, it is, and he will let nobody question that logic – but how is she supposed to know, she can’t look into his head.

“There is no such thing as next time,” he says instead of telling her that. “It’s like in a school sports team. People always say ‘next year’ like it matters, even though with the third years graduating and new first years joining the club there’s never a next year for any school team, because it’s always going to be a different constellation of people. So unless you’re saying we’re having these exact people there tomorrow, that logic won’t fly.”

She frowns, confused like he just explained a complicated math formula to her, and eventually shakes her head. “I mean, I guess. But … Just accept when you lost.”

“No,” Tooru states and Keiji nods in agreement. It’s probably a good thing they’re on the same team.

“What are you, five?” one of the more quiet people asks, while Sawamura shouts, “That’s the spirit!” Yes, he’ll definitely have him on his team next time. Wait, no, saying that destroys his own analogy. He thinks. He has kind of confused himself by now.

“Well, that’s that,” Nekomata, whose own voice is a bit slow by now, announces. “Let’s count the money.”

No! They can’t finish like this! Not when he’s in last place! He can’t lose, he doesn’t lose, Akaashi Keiji does not lose at Monopoly, it doesn’t _happen_ , not like this—

He stands up from the floor with a death glare and trembling hands, and that’s roughly when he realises that he has to sit through the winners being announced, and their own team being declared the loser, and if he can’t stop it right here then he at least won’t stay around to suffer through that.

So he doesn’t. He just stares them all down one last time, turns, and heads for the door.

Somewhere out there he can hear Terushima having a laughing fit and Tashiro sighing deeply, but he doesn’t give a damn. He’s not watching that miserable conclusion if he can help it, and he’s not the only one who’s leaving, either. Sakurai is heading off as well, as their team hasn’t fared too well either, and a few others follow. Now that he’s away from the action, he’s a bit relieved. Has he always been this petty?

“Incredible,” someone says behind him when he’s in the lobby waiting for the elevator to come. He can’t quite place what Tooru is talking about – it could be their incredible loss or Keiji’s incredible spiteful leave. Or both. Probably both.

He turns around to face him and his expression reveals he’s most likely talking about the former. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen him this pissed off, nose scrunched and eyes narrowed and occasionally looking back at where they came from as if that would change anything.

“We’re getting back on them tomorrow,” he says, voice low and serious. “And then they’ll be sorry to have ever laughed at us.”

Keiji finds himself agreeing. Maybe he should have gone through with the whole kissing thing, it could have been worth a try. He’ll have to keep it in mind for when they attempt this again.

Besides, it could get him significantly closer to Tooru who, now that Mai isn’t around, isn’t being as affectionate anymore, something that he’s growing painfully aware of. He could just move in to hug him, they’ve done that before, but there are people around and the elevator should be here any second now. If they were in a secluded area, maybe … After all, Tooru has definitely shown he isn’t afraid of physical contact.

“What was that about anyway?” he quietly asks himself just as the elevator announces his presence with a _ding_.

“What was what about?”

The door closes behind them after they step in, and Keiji debates just shaking his head and letting the topic drop, but at the same time he’s starting to feel really tired and honestly, he doesn’t care at this point. “You weren’t letting me go at all during the game.”

“Oh, that …” It takes him a long while to continue, so long that they are out of the elevator again when he does. “I just felt like it. Sorry if Mai-chan wants to kill you now.”

‘Just felt like it’? That’s what took him so long? “I’m pretty sure you’re the one she wants dead. But you still played together just fine. Either way, I didn’t mind it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” In fact, he’s grown very used to the feeling and would greatly appreciate if he did it again, thank you.

“Yes, that was pretty obvious,” Tooru muses while fiddling for the key in his pockets. “It’s how we woke up too after all.”

The speed in which he blushes the colour of an overripe tomato has got to be a new world record.

Of course he knew. God, they probably got even more entangled after he fell back asleep, and he probably didn’t know how to bring it up because obviously it’s embarrassing as all hell – and knowing himself it’s probably going to happen _again_ , which, again, Keiji is completely fine with but he doubts Tooru will stand for.

Or maybe he will. Maybe he liked it.

_Keiji … Don’t go._

The bed suddenly looks a lot less inviting.

Speaking of the bed, his phone is still lying on the mattress. Even though it’s late (or early, rather) he should probably check if he got something new, and it can help taking his mind off this awkwardness if nothing else. And then he’ll fall into bed, preferably before Tooru so that he can fall asleep before it gets even weirder.

 _8 missed calls from Bokuto Koutarou_ , the screen reads and he immediately regrets his idea.

Why would Bokuto call him? He knows he doesn’t like to call, that’s why he usually just texts. And eight times, the last of which has been mere minutes ago? His friend may exaggerate a lot of things, but this is uncharacteristic even for him.

Did something happen?

Before even thinking about it properly, he jams in his code and taps the call button. Tooru looks over his shoulder, but he doesn’t have the time to explain anything. If Bokuto is in trouble, he has to know immediately.

The phone doesn’t even have time to finish its first low beep before Bokuto picks up. “Bokuto-san? What happened?” Keiji asks without hesitation, and Tooru cocks his head curiously.

“Akaashi!” If there is a way to shout while whispering, Bokuto has found it, he can’t explain it any other way. He thinks he hears rumbling in the background, but he’s not certain.

“Are you in trouble? Are you hurt? Is someone holding you captive? If you can call me you can call the police, don’t worry about it, they can help you—”

“Tetsu kissed me,” Bokuto interrupts him and he almost doesn’t register it at first.

“What?” he asks as he’s trying to wrap his head around what he just said. Kuroo. Kissed him. _That’s_ why he scared him like that?

“We were out partying and we went to the stage we’re playing on for the concert and played a bit and then he kissed me and now I’ve been hiding in the bathroom for half an hour or so … I don’t even know if he’s still there! Akaashi, what do I _do_?”

He’d normally be mad at him for wasting his time like that, but he sounds genuinely distressed, and honestly, Keiji can’t blame him. At the same time he’s probably the person least qualified to deal with other people’s love problems, he’s already overwhelmed with his own.

“What happened?” Tooru mutters and Keiji opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t know where to start. Actually, that guy can make himself useful for a change.

“Can I put you on speaker? Tooru is here.”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead, I need all the help I can get …”

He pretty much repeats everything he’s said to Keiji while the two of them sit down on the bed, exchanging glances. Tooru knows Kuroo much better than Keiji could ever hope to, so he’s probably the right person to ask here. If there’s any sort of history between those two, he has a good chance to know about it.

“Do you like him?” he asks in lack of anything better. He supposes that if he did, it wouldn’t be like this, but he’s Bokuto and you never know with Bokuto.

“I … I don’t know? I guess? I’ve never really thought about it …”

Tooru coughs very suspiciously, and when Keiji side-eyes him he leans in to whisper, “Guess he didn’t know about Kuro-chan’s obvious crush on him after all.”

Was it really that obvious though? He would have never assumed that. They seemed to him like they were best friends, nothing else, and even at the carnival he didn’t see them act any different for the short time they were together.

“I mean, I kinda wanna try, but … What if I fuck it up? I can’t lose him.” He sounds so distraught and it hurts Keiji’s heart. Bokuto isn’t supposed to be sad. Bokuto is walking sunshine that has mood swings but always radiates positivity. Him feeling genuinely bad is something that doesn’t happen a lot. It must be difficult for him, Keiji thinks, to suddenly be confronted by something this confusing. His friendship with Kuroo is never going to be the same, that’s for certain.

“You need to talk to him. There’s no other way.” This isn’t something he can solve for him, as much as he would like to – and it wouldn’t be fair to Kuroo either.

“Yup, what he said,” Tooru says and shrugs. To him, this is probably not news at all, if he knew about Kuroo’s feelings, but Keiji still hasn’t processed it entirely. It came so out of the blue, and he’s never been particularly spontaneous, so he’s definitely not suited for giving advice but what else is he to do?

Bokuto is silent for a long time, so long that he would have assumed he hung up if it hadn’t been for the quiet noises in the background. Eventually, he says, his voice not more than a whisper, “What am I supposed to do?”

“First of all, get out of that bathroom before someone accidentally locks you in,” Tooru proposes, something that Keiji probably should have mentioned before, but he didn’t even bother. “Then you track down Kuro-chan, maybe he’s still there, and you talk to him, properly. If you don’t know what you feel yet tell him that. Nothing good is going to come out of avoiding the topic, and that’s that.”

When he says it, it sounds so easy. By all accounts, it should be. But from an outside perspective, it’s easy to say ‘just talk to him’ when a friendship is on the line, and Bokuto called Kuroo his _best_ friend even. That’s not something you’d want to lose.

But what happened happened, that kiss won’t be taken back, and the rest is damage control.

“I guess …” Bokuto mutters, sounding dejected. “Why does love have to be this complicated?”

“It’s pretty simple, actually,” Tooru muses in a tone he can’t read.

He doesn’t want to leave his friend alone with this, but it’s the middle of the night and if they keep talking it won’t lead him anywhere. Maybe in order to help him, he has to leave him be. It’s an uncomfortable thought when it comes to Bokuto, but he can’t see any other way.

“I’m sorry I can’t do more,” he winds up saying and Tooru puts a hand on his shoulder but it’s not all that reassuring, not when he knows his best friend is going through a hard time and he’s not even there to lend him a hand.

“It’s okay … I guess it’s obvious what I have to do, but man … I don’t get my own feelings right now.”

Maybe it would be easier if he could just reject him, but that’s clearly not the problem here.

“Seriously though, get out of that bathroom, it’s past two at night. Talk it out with Kuro-chan and then go home and sleep. None of us should be awake at this time.” He says that as if he wasn’t also someone who stayed up until now playing Monopoly.

They say their goodbyes and when Keiji ends the call, he feels somewhat hollow.

This isn’t right. He isn’t supposed to be sitting here unable to do anything. That’s not how they _work_ , Bokuto and him. He’s the one fixing his problems, not standing there with no idea what to do.

“Keiji?” Tooru asks softly, dropping his hand from his shoulder to run it over his arm. The touch leaves a tingling feeling behind that right now, he absolutely detests. This isn’t about him. “Let’s go to sleep. He’ll be alright.”

There’s so many things he wants to ask – things like _how much do you know about them_ , and _do you really think that_ , but what comes out is, “That song at the end of their last concert, was that for Bokuto-san?”

_But you / you turned away / before you even noticed. / But I / I looked ahead / and let you go._

He can’t help but feel bad for Kuroo too. If the lyrics were any indication, he’s been suffering for a while. For the sake of both of them, he hopes Bokuto finds he’s in love with him after all and that they can be happy together.

“It was,” he says without hesitation. “I assumed it was when I heard it, but he told me about it not much later. He really is in love with him, but he never wanted to act on it … Kind of like Bo-kun, he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. He thought he didn’t have a chance anyway. But I guess he couldn’t hold all those feelings anymore, so he broke when they were alone … And now we’re here.”

His expression is a bit pained as well, likely suffering for Kuroo. It looks like both of them have a friend tangled up in this situation. “Knowing Bokuto-san, he really didn’t consider it at all. And if Kuroo-san lost his control like that …” He doesn’t know much about Kuroo, but he didn’t seem like the kind of person who slips up easily. For how long has this been building up?

“It’s probably best that it happened, though. Otherwise he’d have been dancing around him even longer.”

“I suppose.” Still, it doesn’t feel right. A confession should be mutual. “I can’t blame anyone for being confused though. If someone suddenly kissed me, even if it’s the person I like, I’d be overwhelmed too.”

What would he do if it had been him and Tooru rather than Bokuto and Kuroo?

It’s too late and he’s too tired to think about it, and while he doesn’t like the idea of going to sleep with all of this still swirling around in his mind, he should unless he wants to pass out again. Rigorous dancing practice has been announced for tomorrow.

They both get ready for bed quickly, but he lies awake for a long time still, staring at the wall unable to fall asleep, until he feels Tooru’s body at his back and his arm draped over his waist, much like how they sat there at the game. After the call, it now feels like that’s been ages ago.

He assumes he’s fallen asleep and somehow cuddled up to him again, though he doesn’t mind it, rather moves back a bit to melt into the touch and relish in the feeling of support he desperately needs right now. It’s warm and strangely familiar, and he thinks if he closed his eyes now, sleep might come after all.

That is, until he hears him quietly speak. “So you really don’t mind this, huh?”

He almost shoves him off, but he may be startled but he’s also very comfortable like this, so he doesn’t. Instead, as there’s no need to deny it anymore, he hums in agreement.

“Sorry, just testing my boundaries.” His breath tickles his skin when he laughs, barely making a sound. “I always assumed you didn’t like physical contact … Until the concert, that is.”

“My best friend is Bokuto Koutarou, everyone who doesn’t like physical contact should stay a million kilometres away from him,” he jokes in return and earns another small laugh.

“He really means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

“Well, he’s …” How does he describe Bokuto? Without him, he probably wouldn’t have known most of his friends in high school because knowing him is an excellent way to get pulled into social circles without trying. Without him, he probably wouldn’t have had the courage to apply to Karasuno because he lacked the confidence in his abilities that he kept reassuring him he should have. Life might not have been worse had he never been friends with Bokuto, but it certainly would have been much, much different. “He’s special in a lot of ways.”

“Are you in love with him?”

The question catches him so off-guard he stiffens out of sheer confusion. “What? No. Of course not. He’s more like … A family member. The weird cousin, if you will.”

“Good,” Tooru mutters and pulls him a bit closer, and the implications of that single word set off a thousand ideas in his head, all of which seem highly unrealistic. He didn’t say _good_ because he’s glad Keiji doesn’t have someone, it’s probably because it would make the situation with Kuroo even more complicated, or maybe he just doesn’t like the thought of them together or whatever. It’s nothing.

“Do I seem like I am?” He understands how he could, perhaps, though nobody has ever actually assumed that much, at least not to his knowledge. For his first two years of high school, his life essentially revolved around his friend. It’s similar to how it is now with Terushima, Mai, and even Tooru.

“Not really. You remind me of myself and Iwa-chan, actually. I just wanted to make sure, since you said he’s ‘special’ …”

“Not the kind of special you’re thinking of.” He should know what it’s like, he’s Bokuto’s friend too. Bokuto’s special is different from Tooru’s special, though whether he knows that or not he still doesn’t entirely understand. “Why do you even care?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles and sighs. “I don’t know a lot of things. Shocking, I know.”

“Now you’re contradicting yourself.”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

Eventually, his body decides he has a point and he’s dragged into dreamless slumber, and the last thing he remembers is thinking that he could get used to this feeling, if only he could have it without suffering before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having intense Bokuroo feelings lately ... I really need to write them something proper ugh I love them sO MUCH


	24. Non-Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi Keiji Cannot Catch A Break: The Fic
> 
> sorry for the short absence! Iwadai week took up all my creative energy, rip. (I still haven't finished the last chapter of that either ... that was supposed to be out yesterday ... I'm very bad at this huh) I should be back to my usual rhythm now though! ... though that "don't get used to it" still stands. it always does. but tbh I don't think at this point that I'm gonna slow down much, pff.
> 
> honestly this chapter was supposed to end a tad bit later but I felt kinda bad for not updating in a while (curse you Iwadai. that's a lie I love Iwadai I don't want it cursed) and it was definitely long enough already so I figured I shouldn't let it go on for too long after that ... and it's a decent point to cut it, I think. admittedly, that thinking could be impaired by the fact that it's 4am but that's kinda par for the course, isn't it?
> 
> the title is such a cop-out, it's the name of the song Nekomata plays in the end but I googled aerobics songs and all it gave me was compilations and most of them had the words "non-stop" in the title so I just decided I'd use that for this one ... can you tell I'm running out of song titles? I still have a few but they're all meant for specific scenes so aRGH

He wakes up to the dim light of a rising sun falling through the curtains, Tooru still fast asleep beside him. Keiji is lying on his back now, blinking rapidly to get used to the light, and he’s feeling a bit too warm with how Tooru is still clinging to him, though this time he’s much less nervous about it.

If things were different, he’d lie here for a while and close his eyes, get lost in the feeling, but as soon as he’s somewhat awake, last night comes crushing back to him.

Bokuto’s distraught confusion after his best friend kissed him. He sounded so scared to break what they have.

Has he talked to him?

He knows he shouldn’t worry too much, as it will only distract him from practice, but he can’t help but be concerned, and it’s making him restless. As much as he likes the feeling of warmth and safety he’s enveloped in right now, it’s already driving him crazy knowing that he can’t do a thing.

He wriggles out of Tooru’s embrace, careful not to wake him, and checks the clock – just past 6 AM. If he was smart, he’d go back to sleep, but he doesn’t feel the four hours at best quite yet and he’s not particularly inclined to do the smart thing right now.

Instead, he heads for the balcony, quietly pushing aside the curtains and opening the glass door to step outside and lean against the thick wooden fence, staring out at the lake. It’s glittering in the sunlight, a beautiful, undisturbed sight, and he finds himself just looking out at it with his thoughts nowhere and everywhere, a tangled mess he can’t decipher.

This has nothing to do with him, and yet it’s weighing down on him like this.

Should he call him? Well, Bokuto is probably asleep anyway, so he should probably check in during their break or so. Or perhaps a text will suffice. He just needs to know if he’s okay, and how Kuroo took it, too – for Tooru’s sake.

He turns his head to glance at him upon that thought, still lying there peacefully, clutching a pillow now that Keiji is gone. His heart swells at the sight; there’s something so sweet and domestic about waking up to him and it only serves as another reminder how far gone for him he really is. They’ve come a long way since he first heard him sing, that’s for certain.

While he thinks about Tooru a lot, he doesn’t think about his own feelings for him all that much. Now that he is considering them, he feels a bit stupid. It’s not like he never had relationships before, even a crush or two, but none of them felt quite like this, and it makes him understand all those sappy love songs he used to condemn for being annoying a little better. In a way, he’s angry at himself for it. He’s always prided himself on being rational, what happened to that?

But if giving up his rationality is the price for being allowed to love Tooru, he’ll gladly trade it away.

… Hold on a second, when has he started thinking that? That’s going a little too far, isn’t it?

He quickly looks away to hide his blush from nobody in particular, but now the lake is staring back at him like it knows all of his secret and not-so secret feelings. “Curse you, lake,” he mutters and sticks his tongue out at it before turning around with a sigh and going back inside.

He should use his time for more important things, like showering and having his emotional crisis under warm water rather than out in the open, and as long as Tooru is still asleep he doesn’t even have to worry about hurrying up. At least he doubts he can go back to sleep, even if there’s still enough time to.

Once he’s standing under the shower, his thoughts shift back to what he spontaneously decides to dub the Bokuroo dilemma, which makes it already the second confusing love story he’s somehow peripherally involved in. At least the Terufuta case seems to be evening out … Have evened out? They weren’t particularly touchy-feely at the Monopoly game, but that might have just been because they wanted to win, and their interactions at breakfast seemed to speak of at least some sort of agreement.

What strange world he is living in, in which he and Tooru are more affectionate than … A couple? Maybe? God, who knows at this point.

Everything would be so much easier if it was all clear. Terushima he could just ask, though he’s not sure if he’ll get a good answer out of him, and Bokuto needs to make up his mind somehow. He himself … Well …

He’s not blind. He can tell Tooru likes him, in some way at least. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realises he doesn’t really know about his relationships all that much. He’s friends with Sawamura and they share the latter’s room to store his stuff, Kuroo whines to him about his feelings for Bokuto if nothing else, Bokuto himself speaks very highly of him, but more so about his musical abilities than his personality. He seems to have a decent relationship to his fellow tenors, Futakuchi spoke like he knew him a bit, he’s friends with Semi in some way and he can’t stand Ushijima. That’s all fine and good, but Keiji is more interested in how he acts around them. He wants to believe they have something special, and last night felt like they do, but if he’s reading too much into it …

Then again, how much is ‘too much’ when you’re dealing with your crush spooning you and being relieved when you don’t have feelings for someone else?

And he called him beautiful, too.

He wonders about that one specifically. First of all, he’d just woken up, nobody looks _beautiful_ when they’ve just woken up. Secondly, Tooru is one to talk. And third …

People have told him he’s pretty before. He never quite believed them, but he figures he’s at least decently attractive, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all. But the way he looked at him … Like Keiji was the night sky he loves so much.

He shakes his head to get rid of the thought. Right now is not the time. Right now they should focus on practice, and before he gets himself into any more romantic trouble he needs to figure out the Bokuroo dilemma or else he’ll just feel bad about it. He and Tooru have time. No need to rush.

Still, life would be significantly easier if he could just be upfront about his feelings. It’s not that he’s completely hopeless anymore – he still doesn’t get why he’d like him back but it doesn’t feel like an unreachable possibility. But facing his emotions and acting on them, making himself so vulnerable in the process that anyone could hurt him even without trying …

It’s a terrifying thought.

The possibility is still there for him to be misreading the entire situation. Heck, even if Tooru does have feelings for him, maybe he doesn’t want to act on them yet. Surely if he did he’d have asked him out already, he’s far from being subtle with his crush.

Getting rejected now that there’s hope on the horizon could break his heart in ways he could never recover from.

Perhaps he’s being too dramatic about it. He might be overthinking their case and it might be as simple as both of them being smitten idiots who don’t know how to deal with being in love, but Tooru doesn’t strike him as that kind of person.

He groans and lightly slaps his hands against his cheeks, breathing out slowly. This is doing him no good. Why did he join the choir again? He expected singing, not whatever this is.

When he comes out of the bathroom (fully clothed unlike _some_ people), Tooru is facing the foot end of the bed, lying on his stomach scrolling on his phone. It takes him a few moments to look up and a few more of staring at him with an extremely confused expression before he says, “Good morning.”

“What happened to you?” Keiji asks and snorts. He looks like he has no idea what he’s even doing here, let alone who that guy who just came out of the bathroom is.

“Mai-chan,” he answers surprisingly quickly and he’s about to nod understandingly until he freezes in motion and now it’s his turn to stare at him with no idea what he’s talking about.

“Hold on, Mai?”

“Yup.” He drops his phone and rolls into his back, now more resembling a tired cat than anything else. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I went out to take a walk and ran into her.”

“Careful, don’t pass out,” he says half-jokingly. He supposes sometimes you just can’t fall asleep, although it does make him wonder when he came back and fell asleep after all. Also, it’s a bit of an attack on his pride that he couldn’t sleep despite clinging to Keiji like that. It helped him fall asleep, so it should have worked on Tooru too, or is he implying that’s not enough for him? Hmpf. “How did it go?”

While he heads for his bag to gather his sheet music so he won’t have to hurry later, he hears him rolling around even more. “I don’t know,” Tooru whines. “I mean, I think I have an idea now why she doesn’t like me, and she definitely made it clear she wants me to stay away from you, but something about her …”

That first part is especially interesting. If Mai won’t tell him, he’ll gladly take Tooru’s input. “You do? What is it about?”

“A friend of hers, if I’m not mistaken.” The sigh falling from his lips speaks of more than he’s letting on. “It’s … A long story.”

“I have time.”

He sits down on the bed and Tooru looks up at him, formerly confused expression now what can only be described as miserable. “I don’t want you to know that story.”

“Why not? Did you kill a person or what?” Admittedly, if he’d killed one of Keiji’s friends, he’d be angry too. It’s highly unlikely, but hey, it would at least give her a very good excuse.

A slight grin appears of his face. “What if I did?”

“I’d call the police,” Keiji deadpans and flips through the sheets to make sure they’re all here. “Seriously though, please don’t leave me in the dark.”

“Hm … Another time.” He turns around to sit up and rest his head on Keiji’s shoulder, but he’s not having any of it. This is important to him too, it’s one of his best friends they’re talking about, and while he’s not about to turn his back on Tooru forever because Mai doesn’t like him, if there’s any way he can get them to reconcile, he’ll do it.

“Tooru,” he says sternly, but it only earns him a defiant huff. “You’re not making this easy.”

“What do I have to do for you to drop the topic?”

“Tell me about it.”

He wants to kiss his pout away, but even more than that he wants closure. He doesn’t really think he’s going to hate him, right? Then again, it probably depends on what it is. Either way he’s not getting anything out of him right now, that’s for certain, and with only an annoying smile Tooru stands up to go to the bathroom.

Wonderful, it’s yet another thing to occupy his mind.

Maybe he can get something out of Mai now that they’ve met and apparently talked about it? He doesn’t see any reason for her to withhold it from him, if it’s about a person in their past. His first guess would be that they got their heart broken by Tooru or something like that and Mai doesn’t want the same thing to happen to him, but couldn’t she just say that? It doesn’t make much sense.

He sighs and checks his phone for messages instead of thinking about it and driving himself crazy even more. Nothing – not from Bokuto or anyone else.

God, he hopes everything will be alright with him. He can’t stand seeing his friend suffer.

None of this should matter. At this rate, he won’t be able to keep up with choir and school after all, he’s only going to screw up again, and this time it’s not even his damn fault.

He sighs heavily and drops onto the mattress to stare at the ceiling. Aside from the lamp, there’s nothing even remotely of interest up there, but he still feels like he could do this for a while – this way, his mind feels almost as blank as that ceiling.

It’s like almost no time has passed until Tooru comes back out of the bathroom, or at least it sounds that way, he’s not exactly looking.

What does make him sit up and stare is what he hears him say. “Fine, I’ll tell you …”

“Seriously?” Maybe he was just too tired to think rationally or something. Or he just changed his mind.

“ _If_ …” Oh no, there’s an _if_. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy – how dare he even dream? He makes sure to get his annoyance across by means of an extremely unfriendly look, and Tooru’s smug smile wavers a bit but doesn’t disappear. “You come to the Midsummer Market with me.”

“The what?” He’s never heard of that before, something that, if his expression is any indication, greatly bothers Tooru.

“Honestly, how long have you lived here? You _have_ to have heard of that! Do you spend your life caved in in your room?”

“Maybe,” he mutters to himself. It’s true that he doesn’t pay much attention to what’s going on in the city, but he does feel like he should have known about a supposedly big event like that. “So, what is it?”

Apparently deciding it cannot be helped, he shakes his head in disbelief before he sits down on the bed next to him. Their position now is awfully similar to a role reversal of earlier. “The Midsummer Market … Imagine a Christmas fair without the Christmas. It’s kind of a tradition for the people living here to go at least once. It’s always full, but it’s really big, so it doesn’t feel that overly crowded … It pretty much goes through the entire city centre.”

When he imagines a Christmas fair, the first thing he thinks of are warm lights in the late evening, the smell of cinnamon and roasted almonds, soothing music played on every corner … A busy but miraculously quiet place, one he’s always liked. In fact, his first date was to a Christmas fair, and there might not have come anything of it, but it was still a fun time.

That also makes it sound a lot like Tooru is bribing him to go on a date with him.

(Does he know he could have just asked? Talk about dramatic.)

“When is it?” Bokuto’s concert is this Sunday, but he assumes the Market spans several days at least. He doesn’t want to miss either.

“The entire next week! Do you want to go on a specific day?” He’s making it sound like Keiji already said yes. Admittedly, he is about to, but still.

“Hm …” When does he have time? They don’t have to go to school yet and it’s probably best to go on a weekday when it’s not as full. He planned meeting up to study with some people from his classes on Tuesday and Friday, so those are out. Monday is directly after the concert and who knows how that’s going to go, so he’d rather have that for himself. “Wednesday or Thursday would work.”

“Thursday is perfect. Time?”

“In the evening, I’d say.” He doesn’t know how that Market is going to be like, but if it’s anything like a Christmas fair, the evening is much more atmospheric. Maybe they can catch the sunset and stay until late at night … Which would make him tired for his study group, but some sacrifices have to be made. “Around eight?”

“Eight it is then,” Tooru says quite excitedly with a smile on his face that looks much less smug and much more … Genuine. His eyes are almost sparkling, just like at that fair when he saw Akiko. It makes him feel warm, spreading from his heart through his entire body, but not the white-hot way that indicates he’s blushing, rather it’s something comforting and homely – even though the thought of going on (possibly _another_ , if you count the festival) date with him is probably going to make him very nervous once that day actually comes. And this time around, it’ll be only them from the very beginning … Or so he assumes. He never specified they were alone. “I’ll pick you up from your apartment then, Oshirun’s been missing you dearly.”

“Just the two of us?” he asks, and now it feels very badly timed. It’s a bit embarrassing.

“Of course,” Tooru replies. Actually he sounds pretty offended about that question. Maybe it was too obvious, but he had to make sure. “And I’ll tell you everything then, so don’t you dare bail on me an hour before.”

“I wasn’t planning to do that.” Right, it was about that mysterious, oh-so terrible backstory with Mai’s friend. He entirely forgot about it; he would have gone either way, though he knows he shouldn’t. If he doesn’t bother telling him something that’s clearly important, he shouldn’t be endorsing him. But if he’s going along with some elaborate plan right now, frankly he doesn’t give a damn – he won’t say no to spending time with Tooru.

Not if he makes him feel like this.

 

* * *

 

Now that the worry about Tooru and Mai’s tragic run-in in the middle of the night has faded a bit, since he knows he’ll get his answers soon, what his mind jumps back to as soon as they part ways to their respective breakfast tables is the Bokuroo dilemma.

He can’t even focus on the taste of his cereal or listen to the conversation the others are making, instead he’s staring into space, trying to figure out what’s the most likely thing to happen, from a rational perspective. Then again, this is about Bokuto, and Bokuto is anything but rational – or predictable for that matter. And he doesn’t know Kuroo all that well … Have they actually spoken or has Bokuto bailed after all? He could imagine him shouting a ‘sorry’ and running for the hills, but at the same time he’s usually a very straightforward person, so him actually listening to their advice and talking to him properly isn't entirely out. But that throws up even more questions – have they agreed on trying to date at least? Has he rejected him? Their friendship is going to change, that’s for sure, but the direction in which it’s headed is unclear.

He clinks his spoon against his bowl absentmindedly, all _ding, ding, ding_ in a beat that gets faster and faster until Mai physically has to stop him by taking it out of his hand and glaring at him as if to say ‘if you don’t stop this immediately, I’ll take your bowl away too’.

How is he supposed to eat his cereal now?

Speaking of Mai, he wonders how she’s feeling about her late-night run-in with Tooru. He’s heard one side of it, but maybe she has something else to add. However, she doesn’t seem to want to mention it, or at least she’s being as upbeat as ever without any indication that something troubling is on her mind.

When he thinks back to her duet performance, Keiji thinks she’s a pretty good actress too.

He stares into his bowl where his breakfast is slowly getting soggy with milk because Mai still has his spoon. He would have liked to eat it, preferably while it’s still crunchy. You can’t go to practice on an empty stomach after all, and people who prefer soggy cereal are just wrong.

(Somehow he has a feeling Terushima would be one of those, but he can’t prove it, since that guy apparently got up early, rushed to the buffet, and finished his plate before Keiji even came here, which is a pretty admirable feat.)

“Can I have my spoon back?” he asks and Mai waves it around in front of his face, but when he tries to grab it, she pulls back and clicks her tongue.

“Nope, not until you promise you won’t start hitting your bowl again.”

“Hey, at least it was rhythmical!” Terushima protests. If Futakuchi was here, he’d make a retort to that, but he isn’t for some strange reason. Perhaps he overslept. Who’s his roommate again? “You could make a song out of that beat.”

He’s not wrong. Maybe Bokuto’s band that still doesn’t have a name, as far as he knows, can pick it up and write about cereal, it’d fit right in with their other stuff. They’ve already had cupcakes, resting areas, car tires … And that one last song that he now knows Kuroo wrote for Bokuto.

What was its title again? He thinks it was _Farewell Fair_ — No, wait, _Farewell Fall_. Bokuto only mentioned it once in passing, but it sounds right to him. That name alone makes it sound like more of a goodbye than a love song.

_I understand, I understand / But still I cannot quite believe …_

It makes him wonder if Kuroo is actually adept at writing and just dumbs it down because it’s the style of their band. They’re not the serious type after all, and they always seem to have lots of fun just fooling around. It’s what makes this scenario even more heart-breaking.

“Did someone murder your cat or why do you look so sad?” Terushima asks, snatches the spoon from Mai, and immediately steals from Keiji’s cereal, flinching and dropping the spoon back into the bowl when he sees the look on his face saying that while Keiji doesn’t have a cat to be murdered, Terushima will do _just_ fine if he tries that again.

Now that the world is back in place, all that comes out of his mouth is a sigh though.

“Seriously, what happened?” Mai shoots him a worrying glance before taking a drink from her cup of tea.

Should he tell them? They are his best friends, but he can imagine neither Bokuto nor Kuroo want this spread around. But if he just alludes to it, they’ll worry even more or get the wrong idea, which they really shouldn’t; this isn’t about him, no matter how bad he feels about it. In the end, he only shakes his head. “You can’t expect me to be happy this early in the morning,” he jokes and it works, as the conversation shifts to daylight saving time in America for some reason.

It helps think about something else for a while, but that song never stops looming in the back of his mind.

 

* * *

 

Later that day, once they’ve finished eating lunch, they’re all called to the basement.

Keiji and Terushima exchange glances and his friend seems to be equally confused as to why they’re using the basement of all things. Sure, from all he’s heard they have a relatively big room down there, but the weather is great and they wouldn’t bother anyone if they took their practice outside now that they’re getting reunited for rehearsal.

He has never liked basements. Even the brightly lit one that was more reminiscent of a living room with an added bar back at Bokuto’s place in Fukurodani he wasn’t entirely comfortable with, and that one was, by all accounts, just a normal room that happened to be placed underground.

Storage basements are the absolute worst, but even if it’s a clean and bright room, there seems to be something about being in a basement that sets him on edge.

The hotel basement, as it turns out, isn’t that different from the rest of the hotel, though it’s smaller and only home to two event rooms, at least from where they got down. He thinks they have a separate wine basement somewhere else. Either way, he catches himself checking the corners and ceiling for spiders, earning himself a snicker from Terushima he punishes with a light jab in his side.

While looking around, he also remembers he still hasn’t seen Futakuchi anywhere. Seriously, where is he? When he asked Terushima about it earlier, all he got as an answer was a shrug, and Mai didn’t seem to know any better either. Maybe Tooru knows something, since they’re in the same voice and all and their vocal coach would have probably chewed them out for any of them so much as thinking about skipping, if the stories ring true.

The room they’re sent into is big and very, very empty. A few tables have been pushed to the side, chairs standing on top of them to make room for what he can only assume is going to be rigorous choreography practice as previously announced. Misaki isn’t with them this time around, but he’s sure that if they have vocal coaches, they have dance coaches as well. They _have_ been lacking in that department still, that much is true … But the almost malicious glint in Nekomata’s eyes sends shivers down his spine.

As expected, someone’s standing up front with him, a middle-aged man clad in an atrocious yellow tracksuit he wouldn’t want to be seen dead in. Instead of introducing himself or at least saying hello, his first words to them are, “Go stretch, thoroughly. You’re going to need it.”

Nekomata presses a button on the remote he’s holding and music starts playing – music that Keiji painfully remembers from gym class. It’s that exact same stupid aerobics mix that every single teacher seems to use, an amped up version of 80’s songs that despite being remixed at least this century still sounds like it’s older than him. As soon as he hears the lead singer scream out the first note in a horribly botched attempt at a falsetto, he contemplates death.

Unfortunately, nothing is going to free him from this, and after sighing as heavily as he never has before – quite the achievement, kudos to Nekomata – he decides that if he absolutely has to do this, he’s at least going to give it his all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the Midsummer Market exists solely because I wanted a Christmas fair but then remembered that this story is set in summer. I don't even like summer why did I do this


	25. Distant Answer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, Futa.
> 
> the lyrics in this chapter are actually my English lyrics for the Vocaloid song Answer that I wrote ages ago but never finished ... I just like them a whole lot so ya. a lazy attempt to not just use the original song was made by adding a "distant" to fit the story a bit more ... that's a lie I just like the word "distant"
> 
> you know those occasional chapters that are mostly characters standing around talking about stuff? this is one of those chapters. the stuff that is talked about is actually pretty important, but still. that doesn't mean Keiji doesn't get to suffer though, because when does he ever not. it's funny that I'm writing slow-paced (coughs ultra slow burn coughs) character driven fic when it's the type of story I enjoy the least when it comes to reading or watching it. it's very fun to write, but I'd rather watch something that's paced too quickly than averagely slow, haha.
> 
> I keep namedropping Miya Atsumu for some reason. he's not planned to be a part of this story, just some vague person in Keiji's past that he's incredibly pissed at for no particular reason. kinda like Oiks and Ushiwaka. speaking of those two, what's the deal with them? not that it matters in this chapter, I just thought about it again. (dw that'll actually be explained eventually)
> 
> in ninth grade, our year went to a skiing trip in northern Italy for a week. the hotel there was ... alright (except for our room, which was the only one without a balcony, there were panties frozen to the roof right by our window, and a hole in the wall. not that it mattered, nobody paid attention to that considering that we just left our stuff all over the place, to the point where one of my friends slept on chocolate for a night and left a permanent stain in the bedding and nobody was even remotely surprised), but the food? absolutely horrendous. the only thing that tasted somewhat decent was the pizza, and that gave most people (not me, even though I downed like 5 pieces) a bad stomachache. HOWEVER they had their own little ice cream stand and I have never eaten better ice cream than there. I don't know how the quality of it varied so much but it did. anyway the ice cream Keiji eats is based on that and that's the most useless trivia about this whole fic possibly but hey, the more you know. ♪
> 
> (also shoutout to the guys from my class, who stole our ladder for the bunk bed on the first day so I had to climb up without it every day because I had the top bunk, and brought it back just before we left. they DID say they were only borrowing it, but I will never forget my sheer confusion when one of them just walked into our room with a ladder under his arm while we were packing, not saying anything but "here you go" before taking his leave)

Look, Keiji is a peaceful person. He wouldn’t willingly hurt someone (unless their name is Miya Atsumu), he generally values a quiet and friendly environment, and he mostly resorts to rolling his eyes and moving on rather than outwardly getting mad when something annoys him.

But he is just about ready to take that audio player and hurl it right into their dance coach’s face.

It’s not even the exercise itself that bothers him; it’s tiring, sure, and he’d rather be off somewhere doing actual practice of the songs they’re going to perform but he can understand Nekomata wants them to be better at the whole physical exertion thing and possibly use some of the steps in their choreography. It makes sense.

What doesn’t make sense is that they’re _still_ using that godforsaken aerobics mix despite having moved on from aerobics more than half an hour ago. What about their own songs? They have recordings. _HEART_ _↑_ _BEAT_ , _#showtime_ , and that one song they haven’t practiced properly and most likely aren’t going to use for anything other than a bad encore, _Distant Answer_ or what it was called, they’d be perfect for it. But no – it’s that damn aerobics music that wouldn’t sound good even if it wasn’t accompanied by tedious exercise. This is worse than the Monopoly game last night.

(At least the lyrics of _Distant Answer_ would fit the bill. _A world where everything works just perfectly / Was not the world we saw_? Sounds pretty accurate to him.)

If nothing else, running somewhat regularly back at home seems to have improved his stamina, and the four hours of sleep haven’t been that detrimental to his success either, surprisingly so.

The same cannot be said for Mai.

“I’m gonna … Murder him …” she announces between heavy pants when they finally take a short break from dancing and probably looking ridiculous while doing so. Keiji is out of breath, unlike Terushima, who looks ready to run a marathon, but he’s nowhere near as dead as his friend.

“Murder who?” Terushima asks and throws a plastic water bottle at her she doesn’t react to in time – it slips past her and Keiji catches it just before it hits the ground.

“Nice catch,” she says and takes the bottle when he hands it to her. “That coach guy, obviously. He hasn’t even told us his name and he expects us to do all this garbage …”

‘All this garbage’ being basic fitness stuff, but considering his current mood he’s not about to disagree with her. “Probably so we can’t track him down when we’re done with this.”

“Oh, you wanna assassinate him? That’s illegal.” Terushima holds out a bottle to him too, and while opening it, he realises that they’re screwed pretty tightly shut. It takes embarrassingly long to open it, especially with sweaty palms.

“Of course not,” he throws in half-heartedly while trying not to look too bad failing to open a bottle. Damn, who made these? “I’d hire an assassin. Why do the dirty work myself?”

“Clever,” Mai remarks before snatching the bottle from his hands and opening it without a problem. “Still illegal.”

“Weren’t you the one who brought up murder in the first place?” He stares at the bottle for a while, condemning its betrayal against him, but eventually sighs in defeat and drinks anyway.

“I meant murdering him at Monopoly, obviously,” she pants and glares at the coach, who’s talking to a fourth year on the other side of the room. “And that Ikari girl too. And you, Terushima.”

The soon-to-be murder victim in question puts his water bottle to the ground and blinks at her, then laughs apologetically. “Guess you haven’t heard yet … Monopoly’s cancelled.”

“Monopoly is _what_?” What is he saying? He can’t be serious. He has more than one person to pay back for that defeat last night, he won’t go home without proving to them all he’s better than that, and Terushima especially deserves to get his butt kicked.

“Yeah, well … Nekomata said it ran too late last night, so …”

“You’re kidding,” Mai says, suddenly a lot less out of breath and even more pissed off. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to give us the victory we deserve.”

“No, seriously, you can ask him.” Unfortunately, he does look serious, which only serves to make his mood worsen. He was ready to get his revenge, damn it.

“Break’s over!” one of the fourth years calls and he thinks that if nothing else, these stupid dances are a good way to blow off steam.

 

* * *

 

His clothes are soaked with sweat, everything hurts, his legs feel like they’re about to give out, and they still have two more hours to go.

(He does feel a bit less aggravated than before, though it could be argued that’s only the case because he’s too tired to be mad at this point.)

They finally got a long break of half an hour and Keiji is taking to opportunity to hurry back upstairs, away from that damned basement that he now dislikes even more than before they started, and get some ice cream. Kurokawa said the hotel’s café is surprisingly good at making it, and he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t at least try.

Some others had a similar idea, but the people he regularly talks to all stayed downstairs or went elsewhere, so he’s silent until it’s his turn. They don’t have much choice in terms of flavour so he goes with strawberry, since you can never go wrong with strawberry. It’s bigger than expected, but he’s not going to complain.

He doesn’t want to sit at one of the tables all by himself but can’t be bothered to try and talk to anyone either, so he opts for going outside instead, to the terrace where they played Monopoly. A glance at his phone reveals this whole ordeal only took him five minutes – giving him more than enough time to call Bokuto.

The ice cream is as good as Kurokawa made it sound, but now he feels a bit bad regardless. A part of him wants to jam in his code and call his friend immediately, another is hesitant and worried about what may happen, or rather what might have happened. He’s not sure how he’d comfort him if things got really out of hand, especially since he’s not even there with him.

Keiji stares at his phone for a long time.

Eventually, the former side wins.

He takes a deep breath before tapping the call button and listening to the uncertain _doot, doot, doot_ that seems to be taunting him. He doesn’t like calling people, it’s a hassle and he has the annoying ability to make a fool out of himself on the phone, but this is an entirely different struggle than what he’s used to.

Three more _doot_ s. Nobody picks up.

Is Bokuto not hearing his phone? Has he lost it? Or did something bad happen? Maybe it’s out of battery or he’s just slow picking it up …

“ _Hey hey hey! I’m not here right now, so if you wanna leave a message, go right ahead!_ ” his voice sounds out and Keiji is hopeful for a split second until he realises it’s the mailbox, followed by another low beeping sound shortly after. He knows for a fact that Bokuto never checks his mailbox, but he might as well try this.

“Bokuto-san? I was calling to find out if everything is okay after last night. Please call me back. I’m worried.”

At least he knows not to grow even more concerned when he does not, in fact, call him back, because that’s par for the course with him. But he has to do something, he can’t just stand around here and shrug it off like nothing happened.

“Oh, hey, Akaashi,” a familiar voice says and he turns around to face Futakuchi, who looks like he hasn’t slept at all – the shadows under his eyes are almost as dark blue as his shirt and his voice sounds rough, as if he’d been crying. In fact, he looks absolutely terrible, and after being gone all day, he’s now another person Keiji is suddenly worried about.

It must show on his face, since the other attempts a joyless smile. “Don’t ask. Shit happens.”

That only serves to make him more curious and concerned, and when Futakuchi leans on the railing next to him, staring into nothing like a million thoughts are on his mind, he can’t help but ask anyway. “What happened?”

“Didn’t I say don’t ask?” He heaves a heavy sigh and shakes his head, hesitates a moment before speaking again. “My grandpa died last night.”

 _Oh._ Oh no.

“M-my condolences,” he stammers out but Futakuchi waves him off.

“Thanks, but it’s okay. He was sick, we were all ready for it. I was just hoping I’d be there, y’know.”

Next to that, Keiji’s own problems seem miniscule. He doesn’t know what to do, so he just stands there awkwardly, feeling terrible in his own uselessness. Terushima would know what to say and Mai knows him from their childhood days, so she’d be better in this situation too. But out of the three of them, he happened to run into the one who can’t do a thing.

“So, who were you calling?”

He’s about to say that it’s not important when he sees the way he’s looking at him – something in his expression seems to be begging him to talk about something else. Keiji supposes distracting him is the only thing he can really do, so maybe it’s for the best. “Bokuto-san. He didn’t answer though. He probably lost his phone or something.”

Or so he hopes. He did lock himself in the bathroom, which he might have gotten in trouble for. What were they doing in the middle of the night on a stage anyway? That can’t have been entirely legal.

“Oh, that guy … I never know what to make of him.”

“I understand he can be a bit … Overwhelming.” Understatement of the year. That’s what makes him so great though. Those people who can just live life loudly and proudly – he’s always admired them. “He gets along with Terushima though, so …”

“Yeah, he does,” Futakuchi muses, staring out at the sea. “Tell him sorry by the way. Terushima, I mean. He’ll know what you’re talking about.”

It feels like something he shouldn’t pry about, so he simply nods, but now he’s run out of things to say again. Glancing at his ice cream, it seems like a stupidly trivial topic, but to hell with it – if it can get Futakuchi’s mind off his grief, he’ll try it. “Have you tried the ice cream here yet? It’s really good.”

“Haven’t gotten around to it, no … Do they have liquorice flavour?”

“Why would you do that to ice cream?” he asks, taken aback by the question. Liquorice ice cream sounds like a less destructive version of pineapple on pizza, that is to say not as important of a debate but still disgusting.

“Uhm, excuse you, liquorice ice cream is the _best_ ,” Futakuchi argues with furrowed eyebrows and crosses his arms in defiance. “If they don’t have that, what’s the point?”

“Perhaps the point is that there are other objectively better flavours out there and you should get those instead.”

“I won’t take that from the guy who got strawberry. Talk about boring.”

They bicker about ice cream flavours for a while, then their conversation somehow turns to the structure of the café in general, and before he knows it their break is over.

“Are you coming too?” he asks, careful not to sound too worried. If he was Futakuchi, he wouldn’t want to be pitied. “You weren’t there earlier.”

His expression darkens and he shakes his head. “I’ll take the day off, sorry. There’s some legal stuff I need to talk about with my mom still that can’t really wait. I’ll be there tomorrow though.”

It came so sudden and out of the blue for Keiji, but for Futakuchi, it must have been a long time coming. He wonders if the others know about it, or knew of his grandfather’s condition before this. If they do, it only shows that he’s nowhere near as involved with even the people he considers his friends – or close acquaintances at the very least – as he should probably be.

He makes sure to tell Terushima sorry from Futakuchi, and his friend accepts it without any explanation.

 

* * *

 

Nekomata’s plan with these dance lessons may have been to get them used to constant movement and help them coordinate their motions, but all it leads to is them being utterly exhausted by the time they get to their actual choreographies and messing up even more than usual.

They’ve overall been getting better, he can’t deny that; they’ve been practicing these things pretty heavily at home too and slowly but surely the idea of singing while moving is becoming just another thing to do rather than seeming near impossible. And he’s sure it looks great from outside, especially when they switch places and hop around like some enormous idol group (or, well, a show choir), especially the competition pieces with their unbridled energy and enthusiasm.

However …

“Woah, careful,” Yumi says after he bumps into her for the third time today. He quickly apologises and they share a gaze of sheer understanding before Nekomata stops them anyway to tell them just how terrible they are in the most patient voice he has ever heard.

At this point, he kind of wishes he was sleep deprived again to have an excuse to leave, but those four hours of sleep still aren’t showing. In fact, he feels more awake than yesterday. Talk about horrible timing.

“Is he trying to torture us?” a first year from the bass section mutters too loudly and Nekomata smiles.

“If torture is what it takes to unlock your potential …”

Most of the time, Keiji likes his director. Right now is not most of the time.

If this was at least a bit more eventful, maybe, just maybe he’d be able to see the good in it, but it’s not. It’s just the same old repeating and repeating the same things, except now they have the added obstacle of most of them being somewhere on a scale from mildly exhausted to dead where they stand. Considering his hurting legs and side stitch from messing up his breathing earlier, Keiji himself leans more toward the latter.

Can’t he at least be bumping into Tooru instead of Yumi? She’s so small he’s afraid he’s going to run her over, and he absolutely would not mind leaning against him not doing anything else right now. Unfortunately, the choreography for _Diminutive Attention_ puts the baritones and tenors on opposite sides, so it’s not going to happen.

When he glances to the side, he finds that even Terushima is starting to look tired of this, and Terushima is never tired of moving, which means that Keiji has every right to complain.

Or maybe he’s thinking of Futakuchi. He still doesn’t know what that apology was for, but it must have been important. Coupled with what he found out about his grandfather …

“Akaashi, stop spacing out. Pay attention,” Nekomata calls and he flinches.

“Yes, sir. Sorry.” Someone laughs quietly and embarrassment is burning in his cheeks; he can’t let this get to him too much or he’ll just screw up again. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, and after the concert, he’s the one out of everyone here who has the least right to not give it his all.

(That doesn’t mean he’ll quit complaining about it, but that’s not the point.)

At least their singing is great, minus the fact that most of them are out of breath. The vocal lessons have paid off, they’re much more stable than before. The biggest problem is that they don’t sound like they’re having fun, which nobody can blame them for. The only way this could be made fun would be to stop and do something else instead.

After what the clock says is another half hour but feels more like an eternity, they are _finally_ dismissed and while their choreography is less taxing than those aerobics at the beginning, his legs still feel wobbly and like they’re about to give up at any second. He also desperately needs a shower, and sleep, and food. Not in that order.

“Dinner!” Terushima shouts, enthusiastic as ever now that they’re finally free, and Mai stares after him with a tired smile that’s both exasperated and very fond. Keiji understands her sentiment all too well.

Now would be the perfect time to ask her about her run-in with Tooru, but frankly, he has other priorities right now, and even when he’s done with those there’s still Bokuto. He didn’t think about him that much during practice, but now he those vapid _doot_ s resound in his head once again and spur on his imagination – mostly into the direction of _what if something serious happened to him? What if he got hurt? What if he’s dead?_ even though he knows he’s most likely just overthinking.

Shaking his head at himself, he heads for the dining hall, finishes the pasta that’s for dinner in record speed, and hurries to his room to get under the shower before Tooru has a chance to go before him and make him wait.

Though he wouldn’t mind sharing the shower with him either, which is a thought he normally wouldn’t let himself think but to be perfectly honest, all he cares about right now is not being sweaty and gross anymore.

The room is empty when he arrives and he wastes no time to get under the shower and stay there for much longer than absolutely necessary. The warm water is comforting beyond belief, and it’s only now that drowsiness starts to hit him, to the point where he almost falls asleep in the shower once.

Eventually, he decides he can’t stay here forever, so he turns off the water and steps out of the cabinet reluctantly. He supposes Tooru still needs to shower and he can’t make him wait forever, so he gets dressed quickly and dismisses the hairdryer in favour of a towel. Not that he needs to blow-dry his hair anyway, it just happens to make it feel a bit fluffier, and that’s never a bad thing – ah well, he’ll just have to do it tomorrow.

He stretches and yawns when he comes out of the bathroom, with the full intent of calling Bokuto again and then falling into bed, but while his bag is standing at the side of the bed, Tooru isn’t here. Keiji is momentarily confused at that and figures he’s hiding in the closet or something until he remembers that they have a balcony and sure enough, that’s where he is, leaning against the railing not unlike himself this morning.

Despite his low effort to not be noisy, he doesn’t seem to have noticed him, so he’s careful to not make any sound as he sneaks to the balcony, pointer fingers at the ready. Just a few more steps and …

He pokes his sides and Tooru yelps in surprise before whirling around and immediately complaining. “Keiji! You can’t do that! I’ll have a heart attack!”

“Pay more attention to your surroundings then,” Keiji deadpans and steps next to him, giving him a small smirk that he’s trying very desperately not to let turn into full on laughter. Teasing him is fun. “You can go shower now.”

“I’ve already done that, thank you very much. Wasting water is an environmental crime, you know!”

“Wait, where?” Somehow he has a feeling that poor Sawamura had to let him in.

Sure enough, the answer is, “Dai-chi’s room. Teru-chan is still eating, so … What’s that look for?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He tries to ignore the sting in his heart, but it doesn’t want to go unnoticed. He knows being jealous of Sawamura is stupid, it’s just that they seem to be so close … To the point where Tooru can just barge into his hotel room and shower there, or place some of his stuff in the other’s dorm room. Before he told him that, Keiji assumed Sawamura had his own apartment somewhere, and the more he thinks about it the less he likes the idea. Sawamura is a good person, definitely, one he’d consider a friend in some way or another – but his pettiness gets the better of him sometimes, especially when he’s tired.

He probably shouldn’t ask, but … “Is he your best friend here? Sawamura-san, I mean.”

Tooru raises his eyebrows in surprise at the question, then hums, cocking his head. “I never thought of him that way, but I guess he kind of is. In the choir at least. At Karasuno in general that’s definitely Kuro-chan though. I only know Dai-chi through Kuro-chan, too …”

“Really? I figured you just met in choir and got along.” He wants to know more about this, no matter how strange it may feel. He wants to know more about Tooru. So much for going to bed though.

“Oh, no, it was the other way around,” Tooru says and laughs quietly. “I knew Kuro-chan from a summer camp back in junior high, and Kuro-chan knew Dai-chi from an online forum … So we met pretty much immediately and all decided to audition for the choir.”

It sounds a lot like him and Terushima, minus the whole ‘knowing each other already’ thing. Wait, hold on a second, they _all_ auditioned? “Did Kuroo-san not make it? I think he’s quite good.”

“Nope. He botched his audition … I’m pretty sure it was on purpose. He never really wanted to go, he just couldn’t say no to at least trying, I guess.”

The thought alone of wilfully screwing up while being watched by so many people is enough to send shivers down Keiji’s spine. He can’t begin to imagine how it must feel like, essentially making a laughing stock out of yourself. Kuroo has some guts. “I never knew … What about Bokuto-san then?”

“He and Kiyoko-chan were looking for a frontman for the band they wanted to do, not much else,” Tooru answers and shrugs. The band only ever came into play for him when Bokuto said he had one, before that he didn’t even know that he was planning it. Knowing Bokuto, he wasn’t. That guy has always made the best decisions on a whim. Still, he would have thought there was a bit more history behind him and Kuroo, if the latter’s so hopelessly in love with him.

Then again, it’s not much different for himself. Tooru wasn’t part of his life until suddenly he was.

“You know …” He hears him sigh and when he glances at him, his expression is calm and serene, somewhat melancholic. “When I came here, I was actually pretty scared. I mean, I’m good at making friends, but it was the first time Iwa-chan wasn’t there and I couldn’t just go back home all the time since I moved pretty far away. But meeting Kuro-chan again made it so much easier. It’s good to have someone help you settle in, even if you’re both confused and have no idea what you’re doing, at least you’re confused together.”

“You’re right,” he mutters, thinking back to Terushima and how he just … Asserted himself pretty much immediately. Without him, things would have been way different, even with Bokuto here. He doesn’t think he’s ever properly thanked him for it and makes a mental note to do so tomorrow.

“I don’t really care about most people,” Tooru says and shakes his head. “I mean, it’s nice to get along with them, and there’s only around … Four people in the world I really hate, but … There’s always been so much going on and I can’t be concerned for everyone.”

It sounds a little bit cold, but he finds he doesn’t hate it – mostly because he doesn’t believe him one bit.

“Emphasis on ‘most’ though. I care about my sister, and Iwa-chan, and Kuro-chan … And that one annoyingly adorable kouhai of mine, what’s his name again – Akashi or something?”

Keiji lightly punches him in the arm and receives a yelp and a glare, both of them playful as can be. “That reminds me of an obnoxious senpai I have … Oikawa Tofu I think it was.”

“Stop!”

“Never.”

Tooru pouts at him and pinches his cheek before they quiet down again, looking out at the lake in silence for a moment.

“I suppose we feel the same way about Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san,” Keiji eventually says. If Kuroo is Tooru’s best friend here, his sad expression last night is more than understandable, since it’s exactly what Keiji is feeling.

“We do. Not that they’re making it easy. Have you reached Bo-kun today?”

Oh, right, he wanted to try calling him again. Is there a medal for being a terrible friend? Because if so, he deserves it. “I haven’t. I tried to call him earlier, but I only got the mailbox. Hold on, let me try again.”

“Kuro-chan didn’t answer either, so maybe that’s a good sign …” Oh god, he didn’t even think about that possibility. In that case, does he really want to know?

He quickly goes to get his phone from the bedside table and returns with the number already dialled and those annoying low beeps already sounding at his ear. He doesn’t really expect an answer and is proven right when once again the mailbox takes over. This time, he doesn’t bother leaving a message, since Bokuto won’t hear it anyway.

If Kuroo didn’t answer either, maybe they got in trouble for being on that stage in the middle of the night? Bokuto never specified how exactly they got there, or what kind of stage it is, or if they were allowed to be there in the first place.

Keiji glares at his phone as if that would make anything better and shoves it into his pocket with a sigh. “Mailbox.”

“Don’t feel too bad about it. Maybe he’s asleep.”

“Bokuto-san? At ten PM?” He’d rather believe the existence of owl-alpaca hybrids with magical powers than that Bokuto’s asleep right now.

“Good point …” Tooru lays a hand on his shoulder and he leans into the touch a bit. It’s comforting, much better than being alone with his thoughts right now, and he finds that while he usually prefers to be alone after a long day, being with him doesn’t exhaust him at all. Even though he could do without the uncertainty that comes with it – he’s still very much aware that he shouldn’t fall any deeper than he already has, or else he might suffer later.

(That’s what he likes to tell himself at least, no matter how easy it is to forget.)

Another yawn escapes him before he even notices, and he realises that if there’s no Monopoly today he might as well go to bed. Which doesn’t mean he won’t try and find another way to get his revenge. Maybe they can go for a Smash Bros. tournament if they find a console and a screen to play it on. He knows a few things about kicking butt in Smash.

“I’m going to bed,” he announces, but when he wants to turn around, Tooru makes a very whiny sound that’s apparently supposed to tell him not to go. “And you should go to,” he appends, “you’ve gotten even less sleep than I did.”

“I knooow … I don’t wanna.” He leans against Keiji, making himself deliberately heavy to keep him in place, and now he’s torn between shoving him away and appeasing him and staying here. In the end, he’s too tired for the latter though.

“Then don’t. Maybe Sawamura-san’s still awake and you can do … Whatever.”

“What, jealous?” He flinches at the suggestion, which is probably answer enough. Curse you, overtired body. “Don’t worry, you’re my only one. Uh … You’re a much better roommate than him anyway.”

He almost doesn’t catch the second half because his mind gets stuck on _you’re my only one_ for a good fifteen seconds before he realises what he added. Well, after an awkward ‘uh’ … Not really a strong case …

“Good night,” he says before his cheeks can get any redder and he shoves him off to head for the bathroom and brush his teeth.

When he sees himself in the mirror, all wide eyes and flushed cheeks and sleep-deprived to top it all off, he barely recognises himself. And yet he doesn’t hate this change. It’s been a long time since anyone had such a profound effect on him, and while it’s confusing and frustrating and very awkward, the pounding in his chest and his shaking hands make him feel alive in a way he never felt before.

His feelings for Tooru are annoying and troublesome and all over the place, but even if given the choice, he wouldn’t change them for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somewhere back at Karasuno, Misaki Hana is rightfully worrying about the state of the choir's choreography and/or patience for it.


	26. Past the Shore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember that song from chapter 1? Tooru's solo? yeah I remembered I never actually used the title for a chapter and it suited this one so hey, why not!
> 
> coming up with an entire choreography for a song in an hour is a bit harsh ... we had one and a half. admittedly, we didn't move around all that much, but that made it even more difficult imo, there's some things you have in your head that you just can't do if everyone's supposed to keep their position. sometimes I wish we'd done more with that, but our school stage was pretty small and since our concerts were shared with the big bands, we also had music stands behind us ... looming at our backs, ready to attack if we dare forget the lyrics ... we usually had a big ending number with all the band members AND the other choir and it almost always ended in someone falling off the stage. thankfully never me, but the girl next to me wasn't as lucky, lol.
> 
> Tachibana is one of my OCs because hq!! doesn't have a lot of characters who could pass for fourth years in this continuity, but Eri is actually a hq!! character. seriously, look her up, she's Ubugawa's super cute manager. idk if she's a second year in canon, all I know is that she's adorable and I love her even though we know next to nothing about her
> 
> tbh I'm glad this arc is over, not because I didn't like writing it but because there's some things coming very very soon ... big things ..... important things ............... ヽ(〃･ω･)ﾉ

Dancing practice from hell is here to stay another day.

He couldn’t even be happy about waking up to Tooru today, because the first thing he did once he woke up was check his phone and he spent the rest of the morning pondering all the possibilities of how the Bokuroo dilemma is currently going. Despite waking up early and having a semi-reliable roommate, he almost missed breakfast due to being stuck in his thoughts.

Then at breakfast, Futakuchi was there with them, and he did briefly mention his grandfather’s passing, but nothing more about it was said since Ikari had dropped her cereal bowl and everyone was too busy staring at the mess she made. And before he knew it they were called back to that basement and faced with still-nameless demon coach once again.

(Okay, maybe calling him a demon is going a bit too far but his day has been below average and he isn’t going to be nice to anyone right now, at least not in his thoughts.)

This time they’re split into groups of four, one person for each year … Not that that’s going to work out considering the discrepancy in numbers between the first and second and the third and fourth years.

Tooru waves him over from a few metres away while Mai is trying to ask Shimizu, but the latter still seems reluctant to talk to her. He hasn’t thought much about it, Shimizu saying Mai is difficult to talk to … But he hasn’t forgotten it either. It’s strange to him still.

“Good morning,” Tooru says without even looking at him – looks like he’s staking out more victims. They’ll probably end up with Tashiro again if Keiji had to take a guess.

“Good morning?” he repeats. They’ve already seen each other. Why is he wishing him a good morning again?

“Good morning.” Oh, no, the person coming over to them isn’t Tashiro but that fourth year girl Tachibana Ryuuko he knows vaguely. He assumes they’re friends, since she gave him Tooru’s number back then.

“This is a very one-sided conversation,” Keiji states dryly and adds a quick “good morning, senpai” to Tachibana. Up close, she reminds him of Suzumeda even more, down to the dependable aura.

“Mornin’, everyone. Where’s our fourth person?”

“On his way, if I have anything to say about it,” Tooru says, and then, louder, “Dai-chi! Come over here!”

Tachibana exchanges a look with Keiji and he spontaneously decides he likes her. She seems like the trustworthy type. “Akaashi, was it? I don’t think we ever got properly introduced, so yeah, nice to get to know you! I’m Tachibana Ryuuko.”

“Akaashi Keiji, yes.” The share a polite, but not awkward smile. It gives him a feeling he hasn’t had in a while – ever since he came to Karasuno, the lines between senpai and kouhai have been a bit blurred, especially because of Tooru. Even people like Tashiro and Sawamura, while he does respect, he has trouble viewing as his upperclassmen. They’re more like colleagues. Tachibana, aside from reminding him of Suzumeda, has something about her that reminds him she is, in fact, older and more experienced than him and in a way it’s comforting. He knows people who dislike this sort of separation, but it has always felt somewhat secure to him.

Said separation is immediately destroyed by one Oikawa Tooru practically draping himself over Keiji’s back, causing him to blush crimson on the spot. “G-get off me,” he manages to stutter out, but he can’t even shove him off with how he’s weighing down on him.

“No,” Tooru simply replies and his voice sounds like he’s sulking, not that he knows since he’s staring at the floor. Looks like Sawamura won’t come to their group after all … It’s probably a good thing, maybe he’ll find someone new to talk to.

Funny how he’s implying he can talk to people in this state.

Tachibana, completely unfazed, points her thumb over her shoulder at something or someone behind her. “Should I go get Hotoke? Or maybe Nakashima? Or some cute first year?”

“Do whatever you wanna, I don’t care about anything anymore.”

“If that’s the case, you can get off me.” His words fall upon deaf ears. It’s not that he minds, per se, but this would be significantly less nerve-wracking if they weren’t in a room with forty other people very capable of staring at them.

… Okay, maybe not _significantly_ less. He feels like he’s going to explode.

“Listen to your boyfriend, Toorun. We’ve got practice to do and first years to steal,” she says so nonchalantly he doesn’t notice anything wrong with her words at first.

It’s only when he feels him stiffen and breathe a tiny “uhm” that he realises what she just said.

“We’re not … I’m not … I mean, that’s not what …”

“We’re not together,” Tooru says somewhat convincingly.

Tachibana sceptically raises an eyebrow, then shrugs and walks off to get them a fourth person. It’s only when she’s out of earshot that Keiji even dares breathe out and Tooru finally steps away from him.

“I don’t think she believes us,” he mutters with an awkward smile.

“That’s because you wouldn’t let go of me.” Tooru is to blame for the entirety of this. Tooru is to blame for everything. His feelings. The whole choir thing. Global warming.

“No, Tacchan’s just seeing things! She likes to do that sort of thing …”

“Don’t call her that. She’s your senpai.” It hurts just a little bit to hear him so vehemently deny it, but Keiji doesn’t have time to feel bad right now, as Tachibana is returning with a first year he’s seen in the alto section in tow. He thinks she’s friends with Mai, but they’re not particularly close.

“Uhm, hi,” the girl says. She’s a bit on the bigger side, with round cheeks and an apologetic smile, and has her dark hair that starkly reminds him of Ushijima tied in pigtails. Actually, she reminds him of Ushijima in general, though much less imposing. “I’m Miyanoshita Eri. Just Eri is fine …”

“Eri-chan,” Tooru says, sounding like he knows her, better than Keiji at least. “Did you tell your brother to check the volleyball team’s schedule?”

Her eyes widen and she claps her hands together as if remembering something important. “Ah, right! He said he’ll mail it to you later, if that’s okay.”

If it’s about a volleyball team, it must have something to do with Iwaizumi. He would have thought Tooru could figure that out by himself, if they’re best friends and all, but what does he know about professional sports?

“So, what are we supposed to do now?” Tachibana asks and glances at the coach who’s still observing them. Looks like not all of the teams are built yet.

“Wait,” he suggests and she shrugs in agreement.

Tooru looks at them with a sceptical expression for a moment before saying, “You are all boring.”

“What do you want us to do, start a dance party?” Tachibana’s tone mirrors Keiji’s feelings toward that sentence beautifully, and Eri nods along as well. As it is now, Tooru is going to be the odd one out here.

When he looks at the coach though, whatever enthusiasm he might have had about that fades away in a heartbeat. “I think that’s exactly what he wants us to do.”

There’s no hint of a smile on the coaches face, only stern determination to make them into something better, when he announces, “You have one hour to come up with a choreography for a song of your choosing, minus _Spica_ and _Diminutive Attention_. We’re meeting here again at eleven thirty. I want all the steps finalised by the end of the day.”

Tooru stares at him for a long time until he eventually shrugs. “Close enough. Let’s get a practice spot before the others snatch all the good ones.”

“Let’s,” Tachibana agrees and Keiji looks at Eri, who seems as taken aback by their lack of surprise as he is. Have they done something like this before or was it just this easy to guess?

Most importantly though: how the hell is he expecting them to come up with a complete choreography in an _hour_? It’s probably supposed to be a challenge, or to motivate them to get as much done as possible instead of slacking off, but still.

They follow a determined Tachibana through the hotel and if nothing else, it means they’re getting out of the basement. She’s heading for the terrace, but another group has already had that idea and occupied it, the fourth year sticking out his tongue at them which causes Tachibana to do the same before turning around. At least she has an idea where they’re going, while the other three are blindly following along like a very confused herd of sheep.

Eventually they end up outside by the lake, where the ground is a bit uneven but the view is breathtaking, and claim the spot as their own. They haven’t rehearsed here as a group yet and likely won’t tomorrow either before driving back home later that night, but at least he’s doing something here now. It’s oddly satisfying.

“Alright, which song are we doing?” Tachibana asks while tapping around on her phone. “ _A Song I’d Like To Sing_?”

“No,” Keiji immediately shuts her down. He’s had enough of that song in his life.

“ _Spica_ is out, huh …” Tooru muses next to him. “ _Diminutive Attention_ too. Teru-chan’s group definitely doing _#showtime_ , and the other competition songs would need a lot of movement, we don’t have the time for that.”

“How about _Reach_?” Eri asks and he finds himself nodding. That song comes easily to him, so thinking of a choreography wouldn’t be that difficult. They do already have something for every song, but Nekomata has never been fully content with what they had – it still means they can work off it, which is probably what they’re going for anyway. Nobody will make up something entirely new, they’re supposed to be improving on what they have.

When Tachibana looks around the group and finds nobody disagreeing, she nods. “Alright then, let’s get to work.”

 

* * *

 

If someone called him selfish, he wouldn’t be able to deny it.

One side-step, one quarter turn, then raise your arm to touch hands with the person next to you – who just so happens to be Oikawa Tooru, because if Keiji is responsible for making a choreography he’s not going to waste the opportunity of putting them next to each other.

They share a second-long gaze that makes him feel weak in the knees in its intensity before intertwining their hands and making another half turn so that they’re back to back when the instrumental break ends and the chorus starts back up.

“ _Take to the skies / There be light_ ,” a bad recording of them singing the song sounds from Tachibana’s phone and he’s too focused on the person behind him to do more than hum along.

“ _To illuminate the night …_ ” One more quarter turn to face the audience again, their hands still linked with Eri and Tachibana on either side, forming the somewhat frame-like structure the other voices are going to be for the bass and baritones. Since they have the most supportive role in the song, it was either this or putting them on the sides, and he’s not having that. “ _Reach out and fly / I’ll be there / Fly high._ ”

The song ends on a quiet note and they use the instrumental outro to reluctantly let go of each other’s hands and step to the side again, lowering their heads to look at the ground as the last note fades out.

The end is all too apparent with Tachibana’s high-pitched squeal as soon as it’s over. “This is so _good_! We just need something for the bridge and we’re done! Didn’t know you had it in you, Keiji!”

He flinches at the sound of his first name. Nobody here uses it but Tooru, so he just assumed it would be the same with her – but she said ‘Toorun’ earlier too, like the bad nicknaming illness is contagious. Still, it feels strangely uncomfortable, much different from the way Tooru says it. “Thank you, but … Please just call me Akaashi.”

“What? Why?” She pulls her hair tie out and proceeds to make herself a new ponytail, unfazed by his request. “It’s hard to make a nickname out of Keiji … Kei-chan, maybe?”

“Just Akaashi. _Please._ ”

“Forget it, she won’t budge,” Tooru mutters and side-eyes her. “I’ve given up months ago.”

He absolutely hates the idea. Just using his first name has become far too intimate to him ever since Tooru started doing it. Before, he might not have minded, but now, it’s something they and only they share – or are supposed to anyway.

“Let’s work on the bridge,” Eri interrupts them with a motivational smile. She hasn’t spoken too much, but she seems like a person he can get along with; her joy is genuine and she clearly has a lot of fun in choir. “How much time do we have left?”

“Uh …” Tooru glances at Tachibana’s phone lying the middle and grimaces. “Three minutes.”

“Oh. Well, then … We did our best!”

They did, in fact, do their best. They didn’t argue, they settled on the steps quickly, they didn’t slack off. Yet another sign that an hour was far too little time to actually finish something, provided they want to be able to show it off too. But it’s going to mean awkward standing around during the bridge, or worse: improvising. He’s learned over time that improvising in a choir setting is never the right thing to do.

(Exhibit A, Komi absolutely failing his solo in his second year because they hadn’t practiced it enough so he had no idea what to actually sing.)

“Alright, let’s head back then. And don’t you dare take all the credit, Keiji!”

“I did do most of it though,” he says quietly and Tooru snorts. “And please stop calling me that.”

 

* * *

 

Letting them choose their song instead of assigning it to the groups might have been a bad idea, because it meant they ended up with five different choreographies for _Late Night Café_ and only one, their own, for _Reach_. _Missa Pro Defunctis_ looks equally as sad, but it’s such a slow song that they won’t move around too much anyway. That group’s choreography looks about as lazy as anyone could have gotten, but Nekomata compliments them anyway. He secretly thinks he’s congratulating them on their energy preservation skills.

There’s going to be lots of jumping around in _Imagination Escalation_ , _#showtime_ really does make them look like a show choir, and _Blessed Children_ is a bit rough around the edges but has a very nice constant flow to it. When it’s their turn to present, they do end up standing around during the bridge (with Tachibana making jazz hands to the beat and earning laughter from everyone but the unamused looking dance coach) and Eri almost falls over just before the last chorus but overall it goes smoothly, and Nekomata nods contently when Keiji describes how he had it in mind to work with the whole group.

In the end, his prediction was correct and they rather improved on what they already had instead of creating something new entirely. Their own group has made the most changes overall, courtesy of his own selfish desire to stand closer to and touch Tooru, but even they have gone off the mostly boring former choreography, making it more interesting but not impossibly hard to follow.

The songs that had more than one group working on them are going to need some more work to combine those efforts, but overall, all of a sudden everything works just the tiniest bit better.

It’s more fun, too.

Because the steps were made by the people who actually need to take them, it feels like everyone paid special attention to making them actually doable. Their practice goal for the rest of the day is to hammer in all the details, and it’s incredibly obvious now they’re actually capable of moving without running each other over – their old choreographies were for the most part just really impractical.

(It’s the most obvious at _Diminutive Attention_ , which continues to be a hot mess. Since it’s a musical song, he assumes Nekomata didn’t want it changed too much, but maybe it could have benefitted from it nonetheless.)

Not much else happens in rehearsal. The groups are kept to explain their ideas when they get to the respective songs, but other than that everything feels almost ridiculously ordinary, complete with the exhaustion, the sweat, and the legs that give out under him as soon as he gets out of the shower and to the bed that evening, flopping onto the mattress and ready to fall asleep right there.

“I can’t sleep like that,” Tooru complains half an hour later when Keiji is still unfortunately not asleep. “You’re supposed to lie in a bed horizontally, you know. Don’t take up all the space!”

He wants to reply something witty but all that comes out is a muffled groan into the blanket.

“I heard from Kuro-chan, by the way.”

He shoots up straight so quickly he almost falls from the bed. “You did? How are they? Is Bokuto-san alright? He didn’t pick up his phone today either, why is Kuroo-san answering you then? Did they work it out? Did they get in trouble? Tell him if they got in trouble I’m not there to bail them out. They’re old enough to make their own decisions …”

“Mom friend,” Tooru sing-songs, but his grin falls quickly. “I got a message from him a few minutes ago. Quote, ‘don’t ask’.”

“Oh.” _Don’t ask._ Bokuto must have rejected him.

It’s probably for the better, but he can’t help the dark feeling settling in his stomach. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be happy.

It does explain why Bokuto isn’t in the mood to talk to him – it’s certainly not easy for him either. He must feel terrible for turning him down.

“Sorry. Trust me, I feel bad too.” He sits down on the bed and sighs, shaking his head in what appears to be indifference, but the pain in his eyes tells a different story. Kuroo is as important to him as Bokuto is to Keiji; they’re feeling the same thing right now. “But it had to happen. One way or another. They talked about it, that’s the most important part, nothing we can do about anything else. Let’s sleep.”

He doesn’t reach out or cuddle up to him like the last few nights, but for the first time, they’re facing each other. Normally Keiji opts for the wall to make the whole ordeal a little bit less stressful, but right now, he frankly doesn’t care.

After a moment of silence, he quietly asks, “What are you going to do?”

Tooru sighs. “I don’t know. Hug him. Buy him ice cream. Watch bad comedy movies with him. Maybe sing a few songs …”

Music doesn’t sound like a bad idea to cheer Bokuto up either. They had a lot of fun with their joint playing sessions back in high school, maybe it’s time to bring that back. The violin and the drums do still sound good together.

He fully expects him to ask him the same question, but what he eventually hears is, “Sorry for Tacchan by the way. She’s a good person, but I don’t think she understands when people are honestly bothered by something. Still, I didn’t think you’d mind the first name thing, I mean, you don’t with me.”

“I don’t because it’s you,” he whispers and turns to bury his head in his pillow before he can say any more embarrassing things. Strangely, though, he doesn’t regret it.

He’s incredibly grateful that Tooru doesn’t make a joke about it. “That’s good then. Because I won’t stop. It’s fun to say. Keiji.”

Coupled with the softness of his voice, it’s almost too much to bear. “That’s …” he starts, but is swiftly interrupted.

“Keiji.”

“What?”

“Keiji.”

“Stop.”

“Keiji. Keiji. Keiji.”

“Tooru, I swear to god …”

“What is it, Keiji?”

He reaches out to lightly slap his face, but he misses and just hits the mattress instead. His second try, more than warranted by his light laughter, thank you very much, hits the mark though. “Go to sleep.”

“Okay, Keiji.”

“Tooru.”

“Keiji.”

“Tooru.” He’s not losing this, no matter if the sound of his name in Tooru’s mouth over and over again is going to make him explode sooner or later.

“Keep this up all night and we’ll be tired tomorrow, Keiji.”

“You’re one to talk, Tooru. Didn’t you start it?”

“It’s your fault for having a name that’s so fun to say, _Keiji_.”

“It’s not even uncommon. You can find a lot of Keijis, Tooru.”

“You’re a special Keiji though. You’re my Keiji.”

“Stop,” he whispers, torn between moving in closer and turning away to face the wall after all. Even in the darkness of the room, his emotions must be written on his face for everyone to read, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with it. Part of him wants it to be this easy. “We really do need to sleep. We only have tonight.”

“We can sleep on the bus tomorrow night,” Tooru proposes and it gives him a good excuse to gather himself a bit to narrow his eyes at him.

“How can you sleep on the bus?”

“Maybe you could too if you tried it. You know, without all the coffee.”

“You don’t want that. Now good night.” He demonstratively closes his eyes, pronouncing this conversation over, but doesn’t turn around.

Sleep comes quickly that night, and yet he falls asleep feeling somewhat restless.

 

* * *

 

Despite the relative monotony that has settled in by their last day at the hotel, it feels like they’ve achieved much more than they could have even hoped to at the last practice camp.

That, however, does not mean said monotony is any less tedious than it would have been otherwise. If their group effort yesterday was something fresh and fun, today is the usual ‘we’re doing these songs until you could sing them in your sleep’.

Their demon dance coach has left the field and as such practice is less exhausting than it was the last two days, but he’s still drenched in sweat by the time lunch rolls around. They’ve been doing breathing exercises a lot too, sprinkled in between the usual rehearsal, and while it does help their performance, it doesn’t make it any less tiring.

“‘kaash! Mai! I’ll get us the back seats on the bus again, alright?” With how many people they are, Terushima managing to do that repeatedly without fail is actually a huge achievement. Then again, he does seem like the kind of person who would normally sit there, going by the cliché of the loudest people being in the back. Keiji himself doesn’t feel like he’d belong there, though.

“Why do you care so much?” Mai asks with a tired grin. “You’re going to fall asleep five minutes in anyway.”

“Yup,” Futakuchi agrees with his mouth full of noodles.

“I don’t do that!”

“You do,” Keiji says and Mai nods along with him. Terushima shoves a spoonful of soup into his mouth in protest, but soon enough starts coughing uncontrollably until Keiji hands him a glass of water. Mai and Futakuchi are both laughing out loud now, and he can’t help a quiet snicker himself.

Now that they’re almost at the end – only a few more hours until they’re supposed to pack – he finds himself missing the atmosphere already. Eating by himself is going to be boring, and that’s not even to mention the fact that he’ll have his bed for himself again. This morning, he woke up when Tooru was already in the bathroom, so he has no idea if they ended up cuddling again, but either way he’s grown used to his presence almost scarily quickly.

Maybe it’s because they’re not practicing right now, but he kind of doesn’t want it to end.

Later, their last song of the day is _Spica_ , and even though he’s tired and ready to finally get over with today, he thinks it might be those feelings that lead him as well as Mai to do a spectacular job on their duet.

It’s not really the intention of the song, but that odd melancholy he hasn’t been able to shake ever since lunch makes the words come out much clearer, as if they finally have a purpose beyond the obvious. When they’re looking at each other singing their part, it’s like there’s a sense of understanding between them, and for the first time ever since that day after his planetarium visit with Tooru, he feels that maybe he’s been making some progress.

Perhaps without even noticing.

Nekomata compliments them on their performance and when they wrap it up, Mai runs over to him to squeeze him into a hug that he gladly returns. “That was so good! Dang, we’re amazing! I’m expecting you to buy me ice cream when we stop at a resting area.”

Before he can even make a retort she runs off again, presumably so he can’t refuse her. Well, he does have the money, so why not … But then Terushima is going to want something too, and Tooru, and maybe even Futakuchi …

“Wow, so you can actually sing,” someone says and immediately ruins his good mood. Ikari has a hand in her hip, the other flipping her long brown hair, and her smile is so disgustingly fake-sweet he feels like he’s going to throw up. “Here I thought you were only good at standing around. But I guess that’s not the case when there’s no chance to ruin our biggest chance. Do you think the orchestra players gossip about it? I’m sure they do. I would. ‘Look, there’s that guy from the choir who made a complete ass out of himself in front of everyone …’”

He should have known.

Ikari, from everything he knows about her, isn’t what you’d call a nice person. He’s never paid much attention to her before the Monopoly game, but he’s heard his upperclassmen mention her in passing occasionally, usually complaining about how annoying she is to work with. By all accounts, her words mean absolutely nothing and have no other intention than to make him feel bad.

But it’s clear nobody has forgotten the incident, and she can’t be the only one bothered by it. People talking about it behind his back isn’t just a possibility, it’s very likely. He’s been able to block that thought out for a while, but now that she mentioned it, everything comes crushing back.

The blinding spotlights on him. The jumbled mess in his brain as he’s trying to find the right lyrics. The silence draped so heavily over what was supposed to be their opportunity to shine.

He balls his hands to fists to stop himself from shaking and puts on his most careful poker face, keeps his voice as unemotional as possible when he replies. “If you think that. It will be better next time. Nekomata-sensei believes in me, so you have no reason to doubt that.”

In a way, it’s like his first confrontation with Tooru after his audition, but while that too was a rather uncomfortable encounter, at least that guy was trying to give semi-constructive criticism. Ikari is just being rude.

He shouldn’t let it get to him, but that’s easier said than done.

“You know, I’m not the only person who thinks Nekomata was an idiot for letting you keep that duet part,” Ikari says and shrugs before turning around and waving him goodbye, and that one sentence alone sends his mind back into overdrive.

Maybe she’s right. He was good today, but that was once. And if he screws up on stage again, possibly on the concert at the end of the semester where so many people will be watching, it’s going to be clear once and for all that the spotlight is not his place.

But if that’s the case, can he truly say that _Karasuno_ is his place?

If the door hadn’t been open already when he comes into the room, he probably would have ran into it. He’s not sure how he made it up here to begin with, with his body running on autopilot while his thoughts are elsewhere, simultaneously imagining the worst possible outcome and trying to remind him that it’s completely irrational and he shouldn’t overthink it.

He quickly hops under the shower but it does nothing to clear his mind. If anything, it only spurs it on more, so he’s done in record time.

Tooru says something to him that he acknowledges with a hum even though he has no idea what he said. When he heads for the closet to gather his clothes though, he’s stopped by a body pressed against his back and arms locked around his waist. “I said ‘what’s wrong’,” Tooru says and in his current state of mind, it takes him a moment to realise what’s happening. He can’t even muster up the energy to feel giddy – his mood has gone down the drain.

“It’s alright. I talked to Ikari-san and she said some things I didn’t like, that’s all. Now would you let go of me so I can pack?”

“Oh, that bitch, huh,” he murmurs and while Keiji wouldn’t say it the same way, he does find himself agreeing with his choice of words. “What did she say?”

“That’s not important.” _And would take too long now._ They only have half an hour before they’re going to leave, no time to get roped into a conversation about this. “Seriously, I need to get this done. And so do you.”

“Alright, alright.” For once in his life, Tooru actually listens to him, but not before ruffling his hair. “But then don’t come back complaining later.”

Once everything is cleared out, the bed is made, and all their belongings are stored away safely, the room seems to have lost a lot of its former appeal. Now it just looks empty, and suddenly, despite his earlier melancholy, he can’t wait to be home back at his own place that feels very much like _his_.

“Are there any other camps scheduled?” he asks Tooru on their way out, and the other cocks his head, thinking.

“Hmm … Last year there was another one just before the big concert, but I think they said that it’s not sure yet if we’re repeating that this year. I guess it depends on Nekomata-sensei.” When he looks at him again, there’s a smug grin on his face. “What, miss me already?”

“You wish,” Keiji deadpans, even though he’s not far off from the truth. If he was more tired, in an overall better mood, and around Terushima or Bokuto, he’d ask him to stay at his place tonight, but he’s not and he still has _some_ sense of dignity. Just a little.

“Keiji! Why do you hurt me like this? I’m doing my best to be a good senpai and you just shut me down!” Tooru whines and just like that, things feel a little bit more right. Not much, but a little bit.

When they arrive at the bus, Terushima practically drags him into it by the wrist, proclaiming they’re going to play UNO again – a dangerous idea in theory, but practically harmless since Mai was right and his friend does fall asleep five minutes in, so they’re blessed with a peaceful and for once problem-free ride home.

At some point, he thinks he falls asleep by the window for a few minutes, but time moves strangely in the night so he can’t be certain.

They arrive at Karasuno at half past two in the morning and it takes him another half hour to get home, so by the time he’s back in his familiar apartment, he’s exhausted and absolutely ready to go to sleep and spend the rest of the day curled up on the sofa eating chips and doing absolutely nothing but stare at the TV all day long.

He doesn’t even bother unpacking, just falls on his bed (it was a good decision to leave it as that and not build it back into the sofa), closes his eyes, and waits for sleep to come.

It’s a bit lonely, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the hypothetical chips at the end were rice crackers at first but I don't like rice crackers so it didn't feel right. that's not important I just don't have anything else to say for this chapter's end notes aaAA


	27. Overnight Stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title is inspired by Six Trillion Years and Overnight Story (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhUgoaSNPmQ), but has nothing to do with the song, I just think it sounds hella cool. °^°
> 
> I'll have you know that the series Akaashi is watching is not, in fact, objectively terrible but actually pretty dang well-made for a soap opera aimed at old people that airs at 2pm. and I really like the way they're doing the subplot he's mentioning and how even with the lots of romance going on, friendships aren't treated as less important and instead help move the plot along and the characters grow. what that says about me is that I should stop obsessing over a sappy German TV show airing on a state channel but SUE ME
> 
> speaking of dumb German things, I have never been to an event in a bigger hall (like musicals, comedy shows, concerts) where they did not sell pretzels. I don't know why pretzels of all things since it's not like I'm living in the part of Germany that's known for it but somehow?? they're always there. and always delicious. so of course they'd be here too. one time we went to a concert with our class and fifteen minutes after, all other classes had already left but our teacher (coincidentally also my asshole choir director) eventually came out of the building with a pretzel in his hand in absolutely no hurry until we had to remind him that our train was leaving in two minutes. the train station was five walking minutes away. somehow we made it ... but he didn't. since he had our tickets, that also meant we weren't actually allowed to be there, but thankfully nobody controlled us, lol.
> 
> there's a lot of 'Tooru's in the last part of this chapter. this would be significantly easier if they were a straight ship so I could use different pronouns instead of having to use names to differentiate between them all the time but here we are.
> 
> I've been contemplating what an owlpaca would look like but as a wise person once said, "maybe you don't need to know what an owlpaca looks like, you just need to feel it". if I ever have something to name like a band or a business I'll name it Owlpaca. and that's really the only reason for the band name.

He’s woken up by loud thumping on his front door.

A glance at the clock reveals it’s just past 8 AM and the temptation is big to just ignore it and go back to sleep, but it’s getting louder by the second and he has a distinct feeling whoever is at that door will not leave before he at least told them off.

The prospect of talking to someone this early in the morning bothers him to no end and it takes him a good half minute to even mentally prepare to get out of bed. Can’t he at least have coffee first?

He almost trips and falls over nothing on the short way to the door, still dressed in his clothes from yesterday and likely looking like death himself, and when he’s there he takes another moment to rest before opening it, about to give his early visitor a lecture.

“Akaashi! I fucked up!”

He blinks wordlessly.

There are a few things wrong with this scene. First, why is Bokuto awake at eight in the morning? Second, why is Bokuto at his apartment at eight in the morning? Third, what is so important that he wouldn’t even wish him a good morning? Bokuto screwing up isn’t a foreign concept to him, but he usually at least has the decency to say hi.

His friend pushes him to the side to walk into the apartment without closing the door, sits down at the table, and looks up at him like he’s about to start crying. Keiji just stares at him for a while, trying to process what’s going on. Eventually he pulls the door shut, still not knowing what to say.

“Good morning,” is what he eventually settles on.

“What should I do?” Bokuto whines and drops his head on the table. “What should I dooo …”

“What should you do about what?” It’s too early for this. He’s happy to see him again, but he’d have been happier had it been at a reasonable hour.

“Tetsu!”

And here he thought that drama was over and he could focus on making him feel better about it. His brain is a bit slow still, so he needs a few seconds to gather what he knows about the situation – Kuroo kissed him, Bokuto ran away and hid in the bathroom, and then he apparently rejected him. Sounds fairly straightforward. “Do you … Regret rejecting him?”

“I didn’t!”

What.

“I mean, I guess I kinda did … But that wasn’t my intention! I panicked and said … Uh …” He scratches his head. “I said I like him as my best friend, and that I haven’t considered dating him so I need time to think about it … And I think he misunderstood that.”

“You said,” Keiji repeats, trying to wrap his mind around what the hell he just said, “that you like him as a _friend_? Of course he’d get that wrong!”

“I was just trying to be honest!”

He can’t even fault him for that, if anything it’s admirable that he wouldn’t lie to not hurt anyone’s feelings. But couldn’t he have worded it a little bit better? “Bokuto-san … You’re not sure if you like him romantically, right?”

Bokuto nods, expression pained and hair deflated. How does it do that? He never figured it out.

“Then take your time, but clear it with him before this gets any worse. Tell him you didn’t mean to reject him.”

“But wouldn’t that mean I’m giving him false hope? What if I end up figuring out I don’t wanna date him? If I say that, he could get it wrong too.”

He breathes in to make a counterargument, only to realise he has none. Bokuto has a point. It would be its own kind of cruel.

But it’s probably better to be cruel and honest than kind and dishonest.

“It’s your decision, but you’re both just going to feel worse if you don’t clear it up. Which I would have told you days ago if you’d answered your phone, by the way.” He clearly doesn’t want to avoid the topic, so there was no reason for him to not pick up.

His friend looks at him with furrowed eyebrows for a moment before his eyes widen in realisation, and Keiji once again thinks that he’s the closest human to an owl he has ever seen. Fukurodani definitely was the right place for him. No wonder they get along. “Oh! Sorry! I lost my phone, actually. On the way home from the stage, I think I dropped it somewhere … You still need my new number!”

He dropped it. He dropped his phone. Of course he did. Of _course_. “I …” He raises his hands to make an exasperated gesture but all he’s capable of doing is wave around aimlessly. “I was _worried_! I thought something happened to you!”

“Oh, uh. Sorry?” He does look genuinely sorry, but at this point Keiji’s not sure if he cares.

“You’re ‘sorry’, of course you’re—” He cuts himself off before he can get any more agitated this early in the morning and instead uses his pent-up energy to sigh very, very deeply. “Alright. Fine. You talk to Kuroo-san. Preferably before the concert. Speaking of which, do you have a name for your band yet or are you advertised as the band without a name?”

Despite his still vaguely resembling a kicked puppy – baby owl? –, something in Bokuto’s eyes lights up. “Owlpaca!”

“Owlpaca,” he repeats. It has a nice ring to it but he doesn’t entirely understand it. “I get the owl part, but why the alpaca?”

“Kiyoko likes alpacas a lot! Kenma said he’d be fine with everything, and Tetsu … Tetsu wanted a cat to be in there too, so it’s our logo now.”

A band named after owls and alpacas … With a cat in their logo. Sounds like a Bokuto thing to do alright. He does have to wonder what an owlpaca would look like though, and with their logo being a cat he’s never going to find out. What a wasted opportunity.

“You’re coming, right? I got you tickets and everything!”

“Of course.” He is excited to see them on a bigger stage than last time, it’s sure to be amazing even if they’re only the opening act. “How many tickets did you get?”

“Two, but everyone got two each, so Terushima can come, and Mai, and Oikawa, and Futakuchi, and everyone else … It’s gonna be so cool!” He’s bouncing in his chair now, practically sparkling with enthusiasm, but after a moment it ebbs off and his smile turns sad. “I just hope the thing with me and Tetsu will be alright or everyone is going to suffer from it. I really want to keep this band as fun as it’s always been, y’know.”

There it is again, that tone of voice that makes his heart ache so much. It’s painful to see him shift from being happy to remembering what’s wrong, and it’s not supposed to be this way in the first place. Bokuto’s the happy-go-lucky one. Keiji’s supposed to be the downer in this friendship, or, well, the responsible one.

“It’s going to work out,” he says, trying to be reassuring, and walks up to him to pat him on the shoulder. Tooru said something about singing with Kuroo to cheer him up, and he still thinks playing music would help with Bokuto too, but since he got woken up so early, he’s afraid he’d accidentally break his violin if he tried playing now. “Let’s have breakfast first.”

Admittedly, he only has toast, but it’s better than nothing.

“I already had breakfast,” Bokuto says but his eyes tell a different story. In fact, maybe Keiji’s just imagining things but he thinks he sees him drool.

“So?”

“You’re right!”

Thankfully he gives him enough time to change into something he hasn’t worn for more than the last 24 hours and brush his teeth, and while the toast is toasting (hopefully without burning, _Terushima_ ) he finds he still has enough coffee to make two cups. He only makes one, because Bokuto on caffeine is a nightmare nobody should ever have to experience, but it’s good to know there’s at least one more to get him through the day. He could buy some too, but he didn’t plan on leaving his apartment today.

He does appreciate Bokuto’s presence despite everything, but to be completely honest, he’d rather be alone. The only two possible exceptions he could think of are his mother, who he hasn’t seen in a while and who makes good enough omelettes to excuse anything, and Tooru, who he could probably call but that’d be a bit weird. What would he say, even? ‘Can you take the thirty minute ride to my apartment so we can do absolutely nothing’?

No, being alone sounds like the best option right now. He doesn’t want to kick his friend out either though.

“Cassiopeia’s really cool though!” Bokuto says in between bites and it takes him a moment to remember Cassiopeia as the band they’re playing the opening act for. Kuroo’s favourite band or something … And apparently a quite well-known one, though not necessarily _famous_. “They do like that sorta punk-rock style? But with some orchestral stuff in the background. You’re gonna like them!”

“I’m sure I will.” It’s not usually his style, but what he looked up after Bokuto told him about it he did kind of like. He can imagine it being pretty fun live.

“So, you’re coming, and Kiyoko said Misaki is too. There’s Kenma’s friend Hinata, and Terushima and Mai should be a given … Oikawa, Sawamura …”

“What if the others want to invite other people?” He receives an incredulous look that speaks volumes about how much he thought about this, namely not at all.

“They don’t! And I mean, they could still buy tickets there! Oh, by the way …” He hands him two floppy pieces of paper, white letters on a night sky scenery printed on it. “So I don’t forget, here you go. Give one of them to … Uh, whoever still needs one.”

Considering that the concert is tomorrow, it’s probably best if they just meet there and hand the tickets around then. It looks like these two seats or rather standing places are relatively high up, right by the railing and in the dead centre of their row, so they’ll be able to see everything. There’s no real seats unless you count the stairs that some people will surely be sitting on, and the venue, while probably the biggest one the city has, is still rather small, or at least it looked the part when he was checking it out online.

“I just hope I can make this right somehow,” Bokuto says quietly, an unusual thing but not all that surprising considering his situation.

Keiji thought there would have been something he can do now that he’s back home, but he’s just as clueless as before, and now he doesn’t even have Tooru who knows Kuroo much better. All he can hope for is that his best friend is able to solve the situation somehow, in his own weird way as always. And when he thinks about that, part of him wonders why he’s worrying at all. This is Bokuto he’s dealing with. Bokuto isn’t a normal person, he doesn’t play by normal rules. When he gets shot down, he tries again until eventually he succeeds.

He has to believe in him.

“You can. You will. All you need is to clear it up. I’m sure Kuroo-san will understand.”

God, he hopes he’s right.

 

* * *

 

Bokuto leaves before he can even suggest it, since apparently he has his whole day full of practice with the band for the concert, which is why he came here so early. The pained look on his face when mentioning Kuroo says a lot, but he ends up smiling anyway and promising him he’ll try and solve the misunderstanding. He can only hope he’ll actually do it.

He proceeds to distract himself by taking a two hour nap and then follow his initial plan of watching TV and eating junk food. After a while he’s not paying attention to the screen anymore though, instead scrolling through his phone checking for messages.

He texts _everyone but futakuchi_ with his info about the tickets and then the group they made at the festival so that mostly everyone is in the know. Most of what he receives are variants of ‘okay’, except from Terushima, who sends some video instead he doesn’t bother watching, and Yumi, who has to refuse because she’s home with her parents six hours away. How she found the time to get there after the camp he doesn’t know. Maybe she slept on the bus.

After a while he decides to check Instagram, since he hasn’t in a while and maybe his friends put up some nice photos. He still needs a decent profile picture for Mai, come to think of it, perhaps she took a selfie or something.

He has a single notification and assumes it’s just a note from Instagram that he almost doesn’t check but in the end the red circle annoys him so he taps it anyway.

 _toorurun followed you_ , it says.

He stares at it for a long time.

By all accounts, Tooru shouldn’t know he’s even on Instagram. He’s never posted anything, he hardly ever likes people’s posts, he never brings it up in conversation. Heck, occasionally he forgets he even has the app.

Now he’s very puzzled, but also extremely curious. At least he has two followers now (the only one who ever bothered to follow him back was Mai, not even Bokuto cared), but where did this come from?

Oh, damn it, this is going to drive him mad if he doesn’t get an answer.

 _You’re following my Instagram profile?_ he texts him quickly and now that he’s writing it, it makes even less sense. He has a Twitter account that he actually uses. Granted, he only ever retweets cute animals, but at least he does something on there.

 _should I not be?_ comes the answer almost immediately, and then, _not that I care. you can’t get rid of me (/^_ _▽_ _^)/_

 _I’m just confused. How do you even know it exists?_ Unless Bokuto told him, but why would Bokuto tell him?

_Kuro-chan told me. I mean, he asked Bo-kun, but same thing._

That makes even less sense. What does Kuroo have to do with any of it? Judging by that sentence though that seems to have been a while ago. He didn’t even bother checking the date.

_I have to say though, stellar photo collection you’ve got there._

_The fact that I don’t use that account is why I’m confused_ , he replies, not in the mood to banter about this. Honestly, he really is mostly confused.

_can’t I follow my friends?_ _♥_

Something about the word ‘friends’ coupled with that heart makes him feel extremely conflicted. Which is it, Tooru?

_I mean, I won’t stop you. It’s just odd to me._

_hope dies last, Keiji. maybe someday you’ll start becoming a pro photographer and I’ll be the first person to know!_ It’s funny because he does actually like taking photos from time to time, he just doesn’t share them. He likes to think he’s decent at it, even.

_Follow your dreams._

_that’s literally what I did._ _（_ _*_ _´▽｀_ _*_ _）_

It takes him a second to realise he means following Keiji online, and he’s torn between squealing into a pillow and shaking his head in agony. Eventually he settles on the latter. _That was terrible. Never do that again._

 _excuse me? I’m trying to be CUTE._ He can hear his whiny voice in his head and almost tells him that it worked in some way or another and he is, in fact, being very adorable, though possibly for the wrong reasons.

 _Keep doing your best_ , is what he ends up sending.

_I’m already a master at it, whether you realise it or not. maybe someday you’ll see …_

Something about that sentence makes him feel like he’s heard it before, in a setting he should remember, but try as he might, he can’t pin it down. Perhaps it was in a song, or a book … Or maybe someone just plainly said it and somehow it stuck with him.

_anyway sorry to abandon you but I’m meeting with my sis now, try not to miss me too much!_

Tooru has a sister? He wonders what she’s like – two of his sort could be … Interesting. _Have fun_ , he sends in favour of shooting something back about him finally getting his silence back, no matter that he was the one who started the conversation.

Now that he has Bokuto’s new number, he could try and call him to see how things are going with Kuroo, but that would probably appear overbearing and if they’re practicing, he doesn’t have the time for it anyway. If he could, he’d show up at their rehearsal to check on him, maybe spy on them from a distance hidden behind some tree or something … Though that’s going a bit too far.

The TV is still blabbering on in the background, playing some soap opera that he used to watch with his mother before he left for Karasuno. He’s still attached to the setting and the ever present side characters, but the few main characters have been switched out since he last watched it, as they do every few months. From what he’s gathering right now, the old hotel owner has become an alcoholic, sold the hotel to the talented but decidedly evil young guy wanting to reclaim his family honour, and is now working with his best friend on defeating his addiction. Apparently his girlfriend dumped him along the way, although she’s clearly still missing him. It’s extremely melodramatic, but within minutes, he’s sucked in again – there’s something about this show that seems to just grab his attention, objectively terrible as it may be.

It’s a distraction if nothing else, and he gets invested in the characters’ well-beings again pretty quickly. The last ten or so episodes are on the channel’s website, and he mentally jots down a note to watch them later when he remembers that he has the day off and can do whatever the hell he wants, so he just does it now. Three episodes in, he’s shouting at the asshole-y at-this-point-not-yet new hotel owner, after five he has decided the protagonist’s husband is a self-centered jerk as well, and by the time he’s finished he’s left wondering why he ever stopped watching it in the first place.

Also, his stomach is growling. Maybe binge-watching ten episodes of bad but very entertaining 40-minute TV episodes wasn’t his brightest idea.

He ends up ordering something and just as he puts it down, his phone buzzes again. He expects Tooru, but the name on his display is that of Bokuto instead.

 _were good! i think_ , is what he wrote, and then shortly after, _at least testu smiled?? when i said it._

Oh, thank goodness, all is not lost. They’re most likely still threading on thin ice, but it’s good to know they at least tried to talk. Maybe their gig tomorrow is going to bring them closer together again as well.

 _That’s good then. You both deserve to be happy._ He has to admit he’s being a bit selfish, too. Whether he’d care as much if it wasn’t for Bokuto’s mood to be so damn contagious he doesn’t know. Seeing him sad is crushing. Seeing him happy is incredibly uplifting. He’s important to him either way, so perhaps it matters less than he thinks.

He doesn’t seem to want to elaborate, so they talk about nothing for a while until Keiji’s food arrives and he goes back to lunging on his sofa staring into the TV. Nothing particularly good is on, but it might just feel that way because he’s still in the mood for that soap opera. The perfect channel would air nothing but that all day long.

The day ends with as little commotion as humanly possible, and while he does think he wouldn’t want this to become his everyday life, he thinks it’s good to be completely alone and doing nothing every once in a while.

 

* * *

 

The walls of the hall they’re playing in are plastered with Cassiopeia posters, coloured red by the dawn.

It’s an unnecessarily dramatic lighting, he thinks, but it also seems to suit them. There’s something inherently romantic about it while still signalling an ending, and eventually the start of something new, whatever it may be.

He kind of hates that it’s making him think that way. This should have been a fun event where he could see his best friend’s band in action, nothing else, but instead he’s here with the knowledge that said best friend is in a weird romantic situation with his bandmate right now, another one of his friends has a strained relationship with the person he’s in love with, and seeing a stage is inevitably going to remind him of his own failure the last time he’s stood on one again.

But he won’t let that stop him from having fun, and if he has to fight someone for it. Preferably Ikari or Miya Atsumu.

“Aka-kun!” he hears Mai shout from a few metres behind him and when he turns around, she, with Terushima and Futakuchi in tow, is waving her tickets around while running toward him. “Hi!”

It turns out Futakuchi hasn’t been given a ticket yet, so Keiji hands him his spare one and they share a silent smile. He looks much better than at the camp, and he hopes he’ll quickly recover.

“I’m excited!” Terushima says and takes a bite from the donut in his hand. “I’ve never seen them live. Either of them, I mean.”

“They’re really good … Bokuto-san’s band, at least.” He’s looking forward to Cassiopeia too though. “Do you know when the others are coming? Tooru’s already inside talking to Kuroo-san, at least that’s what he told me, but we’re still waiting for …”

“Sawamura, some guy called Semi, and Kanoka.” While he has no idea who that Kanoka person Futakuchi is talking about is, he’s also surprised at Semi. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen him be particularly close with any of the band members, but he is friends with Tooru, so maybe that’s how he got in. He wonders if he brought his annoying roommate Tendou, or Shirabu.

Mai raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Semi? That’s Shira-kun’s friend, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I don’t know that Kanoka-san though.”

“You don’t? She’s that girl who’s sitting with the band guys a lot, the black-haired one,” Futakuchi says and he suddenly remembers – Amanai Kanoka, right. The drummer Bokuto took under his wing. How did he forget that?

“Oh, her,” he mutters, inwardly punching himself. It’s not like he’s never talked to her before. Normally he’s better than this. Of course she’d be here, too.

They wait for a few more minutes until Sawamura shows up alongside a friendly looking boy about his age with silver hair that he introduces as Sugawara Koushi, his former classmate and best friend from high school. Despite his angelic exterior, Keiji can tell from the tone of his voice, especially when directed at Sawamura, that he has a mischievous side, but he’s still friendly enough. They might get along, or it could be exhausting to be around him, he can’t tell quite yet.

Kanoka and Semi arrive together, bringing along a muscular guy with a buzzcut and an expression on his face that’s trying too hard to be intimidating. From Kanoka’s blush introducing him as her friend Tanaka Ryuunosuke it’s easy to tell she at least has a major crush on him. It also turns out Sawamura and Sugawara know him from high school as well, so it’s a small reunion before they finally go inside.

Keiji’s not talking much, instead only focusing on how to find their places and more importantly Tooru. For once, it’s not because he wants to see him (although he does) but because he’d very much appreciate if they decided who takes which spot before the show starts, especially now that Tanaka is also here and who knows if he bought the right ticket.

They don’t run into him on the way though, so after making sure this is where they’re supposed to be – right by the railing, giving them a great view on the stage – he excuses himself to go look for him.

The hall really is rather small, but decently crowded, which makes it a bit difficult to find anyone. If he was talking to Kuroo, they’re probably backstage, but how do you get backstage here? And he doubts he’ll be let in anyway. Looking somewhere near is his best bet though.

He passes by a pretzel stand, stops for a second to consider buying one, then shakes his head and moves on only to stop again when he spots a familiar face munching on a pretzel next to it.

“You do realise we were looking for you, right?” he asks as he approaches Tooru. He’s wearing those glasses again, along with a relatively thin-looking wine red sweater and some sort of armband around his wrist, possibly a backstage pass of sorts. If that’s the case, Keiji should have gotten one too though or else that’s just unfair. Either way, he’s glad he packed his cardigan because now he’s a bit afraid he’ll be cold with only his T-shirt later.

“Well, you found me. I’m proud of you!” He quickly finishes his pretzel to free his hands and pull him into a tight hug as a greeting, and Keiji breathes in his scent. Identifying smells is not his strong suit, but he does know he appreciates Tooru’s. He kind of took it for granted at the practice camp since they shared a room and all, but he’s not going to make that mistake again. If he were to decide, this embrace would never end. “Who’s that ‘we’ you’re talking about though? I only see you.”

“Already inside the main hall because we didn’t find you. You can be grateful I even went back for you.” Tooru pulls back – _bad plan, come back please_ – to inspect him with the smallest pout on his lips that soon turns into a smug grin.

“I never had a doubt, Keiji-chan.”

“Call me that again and I’m leaving without you.”

“ _Hey!_ You wouldn’t do that!”

God, has he missed him and it’s only been a day, even less if you count their text conversation. How deep can he sink? “Oh, I absolutely would and you know it. Now come on before I do.”

His hand drops to take Tooru’s instinctively and he freezes when he feels his touch and realises what he’s doing. Wait, what _is_ he doing? He’s not the type to suddenly pull someone along by the hand, and yet he went to do exactly that without even thinking about it.

Right when he’s about to pull away and apologise he remembers he has absolutely no reason to though. Tooru clearly doesn’t mind touching him, heck, they were _cuddling_ at the camp. Why is he embarrassed about it?

He looks up at him and finds him staring at him with an expression so dumbfounded it could win a prize. If he didn’t feel awkward about it before, now he definitely does, heat creeping into his cheeks and the thought of _I screwed up_ repeating in his mind until it’s the only thing he can think – but he doesn’t let go, because he’s an idiot and frankly he doesn’t deserve this.

“Ah, y-yeah,” Tooru says eventually, blinking rapidly as if coming out of a trance. “Lead the way.”

Keiji takes a deep breath before he does just that, suddenly hyperaware of the feeling of their intertwined hands to the point where he can’t focus on anything else.

Which is probably why they end up on the wrong side of the building.

The door he’s now staring at does not lead to the main hall but rather the bathrooms, possibly the same bathrooms Bokuto chose as his hiding place that night. He should have wondered why there are much fewer people here than there were at the entrance to the main hall, but it’s very difficult to pay attention like this so he’s going to blame it on Tooru.

“If that’s the stage, it says a lot about their music.”

“Of course it’s not,” he mutters, blushing even more, though this time more from embarrassment than anything else. How did this happen? “I … I’m not lost. I just … Took a wrong turn.”

It can’t be that difficult to find where they’re actually supposed to be going; this place isn’t big and all he needs to do is follow the stream of people, in theory at least. Unfortunately, he has no idea how they ended up here in the first place, so his top priority should be to find a spot he recognises, like the pretzel stand or the main entrance.

He could ask Tooru for help – he’s been here for longer than him and most likely knows his way around – but that would go against his very principles and he can’t have that. Besides, it’s not like he’s been overly helpful so far.

“When’s it starting again?”

That’s a good question. He knows it’s at seven, but he doesn’t know the current time. They weren’t cutting it close or anything, but they weren’t especially early either, so if he doesn’t hurry up they might miss the start.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and it shows six forty-four. That should be enough. “Fifteen minutes, so let’s go.”

‘Let’s go’ is a bold statement to make when as soon as they get back to the more crowded areas, the flood of people meant to lead them only confuses him more. He holds on to Tooru’s hand extra tightly as to not lose him amidst the masses, and it’s less of a cute gesture and more of a safety measure now. He has more important things to worry about than this guy who had the audacity to make him fall in love with him.

After a while, they do end up on what he assumes is the right path, but since everyone is heading for the main hall now, it’s getting very squished together as they slowly but surely make their way toward the entrances. Now he only needs to find the one that actually leads to their place, but he thinks he has a better idea of how to get there now.

At least that’s what he thinks until he hears loud complaints about someone being rowdy just before he gets shoved to the side by someone big and bulky who’s evidently in a hurry.

It pushes him against Tooru, which in turn pushes Tooru into the corner between a merchandise stand and the wall, and he fully intends to send that rude jerk his deadliest glare but they’ve already disappeared.

The impact wasn’t too bad, but he had the luxury of only ramming into another person rather than a brick wall, so he turns around to make sure the other is alright. “Did you get hurt?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry … But man, what an ass.” Keiji hardly listens to him as he inspects his left cheek, specifically what he thinks is a scratch on it. It appears he hit the wall with his side and then turned to have his back to it instead. It doesn’t look too bad and he didn’t hear him shout out in pain or anything, but if he hit his head …

He raises his free hand toward it to run his fingertips over the scratch, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to see it better in the bad, artificial light. He’s going to be fine, but he can’t help but be worried. Last time he underestimated what looked like just a simple everyday injury Shirofuku had to go to the hospital because she somehow managed to contract a bad fever in the process. “Are you sure you’re absolutely alright?”

“If I say no, will you nurse me back to health?”

It’s a question he would normally make a sarcastic remark to, but it doesn’t sound as playful as usual. If anything, it’s breathy and so quiet he almost doesn’t catch it, and it’s only when his head turns ever so slightly to look at Tooru’s face instead of only his cheek that he realises the position they’re in.

His left hand is still holding Tooru’s, his right is softly brushing over his cheek, and they’re standing a little too close for comfort, their faces mere centimetres apart.

The reasonable thing to do would be to step away, brush it off awkwardly, and try to forget it ever happened, but he finds himself captivated by those deep chocolate brown eyes behind the glasses as soon as he makes the mistake of looking directly into them, unable to tear his gaze away. They seem to speak of so many things, just like that morning at the hotel when he told him he’s beautiful.

It would be so easy to lean in and close the distance.

Despite better judgement, his body moves on his own and he does exactly that, slowly, carefully, until he can feel his breath on his lips—

“ _Live from Yukiyama!_ ” his phone shouts at full volume and he jumps backward, almost hitting another person in the process.

_What was he just about to do?_

With burning cheeks and shaking hands he grabs his phone, almost dropping it and taking a few seconds until he can make out who the hell is calling him, the jingle Mai set for him steadily playing on in the background. “Terushima,” he says too quickly when he picks up. “What is it?”

“Where are you, man? It’s about to start!”

“W-we’re on our way.” Oh no, this is bad, this is terrible, this is the absolute worst – what was he _thinking_? In a crowded hallway just before his best friend’s gig even, has there ever been a worse place to kiss anyone, especially when he should have not, under any circumstances, attempted that in the first place, why did he do it? Just because they had one of their moments? They’ve had plenty of those and he’s never tried … Oh god. Oh _god_.

“Keiji—” Tooru starts but he shakes his head to hopefully shut him up. This didn’t happen. The sooner this is forgotten by everyone involved the better.

“Let’s go or we’ll miss it.” If he acts like nothing happened, it’s just like it really didn’t, right?

They head for the main hall wordlessly, and he doesn’t look back at him once. When the concert starts, he really wants to focus on Bokuto and his band, but all he can gather is that the crowd seems to like them while his mind is occupied by various, constantly repeating versions of ‘oh no’.

After a while, it ebbs off a bit, since he is thankfully standing sandwiched between Sawamura and Futakuchi and reasonably far away from Tooru, but the pounding in his heart does not fade for a long time.

Owlpaca is performing their last song before Cassiopeia takes the stage, and it’s one he hasn’t heard yet. Whether it was one of those he missed the last time or an entirely new one he doesn’t know, but it comes closer to _Farewell Fall_ in terms of poetry and content. Normally he’d appreciate it, but the lyrics hit a little close to home right now.

“ _Can’t you stay with me for an overnight story? / No regrets and no tomorrow / there’s some things that didn’t work out too well / but I really wanna try them again!_ ”

He does. He would like another opportunity to kiss him, but now he just went and made it painful.

The Midsummer Market is going to be an experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someday I will be executed for making this the slowest burn humanly possible but I will never apologise. it is very fun to write, after all.


	28. Break, Shield, Heal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaking News: Local Baritone Continuously Finds Ways To Fuck Up Even More Than Before
> 
> the name of the game is Obaku Enharmonia Stage (and yes it's the one that Mai was playing on the ride to the first practice camp). can't blame Keiji for getting the name wrong. it's entirely my own wishful fantasy of an idol game like that, though the five groups with five members thing is inspired by BanDori ... seriously I'm sure there's fantasy idol games around but are there any good ones because I have a Need (/ gacha game addiction)
> 
> Akaashi "overthinking is a serious hobby" Keiji
> 
> I have absolutely nothing else to say about this chapter and it makes me very mAD-- but I'm gonna have a lot of things to say about the next one. I mean, I hope. I haven't written it yet after all. I do know what happens. but those things occasionally change once I'm actually writing them so there's no such thing as being perfectly sure. anyway ＼(;´□｀)/

They look like they’re having fun.

Either it’s because of their conversation yesterday or because a switch inside him got flipped when he stepped on stage, but Kuroo shows no signs of distress, and though it’s hard to see from the distance, he thinks he’s smiling brightly, clearly enjoying himself. Bokuto is drumming away like nobody’s business, even Shimizu has a certain energy in her bass play, and Kozume … Well, Kozume looks like he always does, which he supposes is a good thing.

Anyone who doesn’t know of their struggles is going to think this band is made of the best of friends.

They wouldn’t be technically _wrong_ , although a lot of things still seem up in the air. Or maybe Keiji is just overthinking and it really is that easy and everything is okay now.

Even though they’re just the opening act, they gain well-deserved thunderous applause when they finish the last song and leave to make place for Cassiopeia. It’s at that point that he, involuntarily so, starts spacing out.

If he was at home, he’d scream into a pillow, take a cold shower, and scream into a pillow some more, and it wouldn’t do anything but at least he’d get his emotions out somehow because standing here pretending like nothing happened really isn’t helping him deal with the fact that he _almost kissed Tooru_.

He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t wanted to for a while. But out of all the possible places to almost kiss someone, out in public, in the corner of the wall and a merchandise stand, minutes before a concert? That’s not even remotely romantic, which means he doesn’t have an excuse. Getting carried away when they were alone at the hotel or on the Ferris Wheel or in his apartment would have been one thing. He could have written that off to a particular mood. But even though it felt like they were the only ones there for a short moment earlier, they were not, in fact, the only ones there, and it all happened so quickly …

What is it about this place and kissing your crush? He and Kuroo should found a support group.

And he needs to consider how to go on as well. Avoiding Tooru is all fine and good until their scheduled meeting – date? – on Thursday. He could feign ill, but he still needs to know what happened with Mai.

God, is he even going to tell him at this rate? Or does he think of him as creepy now? He should give back the cardigan as a token of apology but he really doesn’t want to.

The advice he gave Bokuto was to talk about his problems with Kuroo … Funny in hindsight, as now he understands very well why he wouldn’t want to. Ignoring it is so much easier. Ignoring it makes it seem like everything’s going to be okay after all.

Maybe he should ask someone for help. Mai is definitely out, she should never so much as hear about this, Bokuto knows possibly even less about this sort of thing than him, his mother hasn’t had a working relationship since high school … Terushima, perhaps? He figured out his – likely painfully obvious, but still – feelings for Tooru all on his own, and he does seem to have some sort of dating experience with how quickly he crushes on people. On top of that, he’s smarter than he looks, and he gets along with most people, so he knows a lot of things.

(He’d ask Sawamura, who always seems so stable and dependable and on top of everything, but Sawamura is Tooru’s best friend here and that can only lead to more trouble.)

He’s vaguely aware of a good song being played on the stage right now, and of his friends having fun singing along, and yet he just stands there, staring into nothing, with his heart beating louder than any drum could ever dream to be.

At least it’s distracting him from what he’d most certainly feel if he wasn’t so preoccupied, that being an overwhelming need to run away at the mere thought of being onstage with that band. In some twisted way, he needs to thank Tooru. Or himself, for screwing up yet again. He seems to be getting particularly good at that. Perhaps it all started when he and Bokuto were growing apart and he didn’t have someone to play the straight man to anymore so he declined into becoming the idiot himself. In that case it’s all Bokuto’s fault, as it used to be a lot in high school.

Pushing the blame for his own feelings onto other people is painfully selfish, but so, so easy.

He doesn’t even know for how long they’ve been standing there when a break is called and Sawamura excuses himself to go to the restroom, leaving him without the human wall he so conveniently built between Keiji and Tooru.

After the loud music from just a minute before, this silence is deafening.

“Aka-kun, do you want a pretzel too?” Mai asks from the side, waving around her wallet and seemingly unknowing that she just saved his life.

“Yes,” he replies a little too quickly sounding a little too relieved and follows her and Futakuchi out of the main hall. Not many people are using the break to leave, so it’s much less crowded than before – probably a good thing, considering what the last crowd led to.

God. _God._ Someone help him.

“I’m not sure if I can trust you with food,” Futakuchi says with a suspicious gaze at Mai, who waves him off nonchalantly.

“Futa-kun, you can trust me with anything. Besides, why did you come along then?”

“Because you didn’t leave me a choice,” he mutters and if Keiji’s mind wasn’t currently occupied, he’d laugh. “So where’s this pretzel stand you’re talking about? We don’t have much time.”

“It’s not that far away, just around that corner.” At least he’s assuming they’re talking about the same one he found Tooru at – the one where they just casually hugged and apparently that’s their greeting now and he didn’t even think about it until just now because he’s thinking about Tooru, period, and good god this needs to stop.

Mai pokes his arm and he flinches, earning an amused huff. “You alright? You’re redder than a tomato.”

“Y-yes, I just … I’m excited about the concert is all.” If this was Terushima, he probably wouldn’t lie, but his point still stands: Mai cannot know about this. At least not yet. He usually appreciates honesty, but he also appreciates being alive.

“Sure,” Futakuchi says dryly and it’s obvious nobody here believes him. Still better than the alternative.

They arrive at the pretzel stand and Mai insists she pay for them too, as according to her they are ‘very good children who deserve a treat once in a while’. Futakuchi stares at his pretzel for a long time, expression growing increasingly suspicious about whether he should eat it, while Keiji is just content not having to pay for his food. The pretzels are very good after all and who is he to reject such an offer?

It does little to distract him though, especially when they get moving back to the main hall and he is once again faced with the prospect of having to talk to Tooru. Maybe he can quietly slip away, disappear into the night, never to be seen again … And a few decades later emerge on the stage of a popular casting show, singing about lost love and winning the competition, becoming famous through it, until Tooru comes around begging for him to give him another chance, which he will refuse in favour of his true love, music. After all, no matter how much it hurts, he needs to have his priorities straight …

Before he ever gets the chance to live out that fantasy though, they’re already back.

“Yo! Where did you get those pretzels?” Terushima shouts. Keiji is half tempted to give him some of his, but he can’t part from good food that easily, so his friend shall keep suffering.

“You could have just come with us.” Futakuchi walks over to him to lightly punch him on the head, which Terushima reacts to by squealing like the protagonist of a bad shoujo anime.

“Or sent someone else,” Sugawara adds with a smirk before biting into a pretzel himself and side-eyeing Sawamura, who sighs defeatedly. Looks like he got ordered by his friend to bring him one when he came back. He wonders what their relationship is like; Sawamura doesn’t strike him as the kind of person who’d get pushed around by anyone. If they know each other from high school, maybe he used to be more weak-willed then … Or he’s not giving Sugawara enough credit.

Tooru leans toward Sugawara and inspects his pretzel with narrowed eyes. “I should have gotten one too,” he mutters and Keiji is just about ready to shoot back a ‘you already had one earlier, that’s enough’ until he remembers that he shouldn’t talk to him at all right now. In fact, it’s best to fade into the shadows, maybe hide behind Kanoka; they’re the same height so it might even work.

He expects him to ask him for part of his pretzel, but the question never comes.

The concert starts back up and his anxiety rises with their crescendo.

The exact same thing that happened to Bokuto happened to him, except now he was the one doing the destroying. His relationship with Tooru is never going to be the same – sure, they’ve been … Possibly a bit closer than friends should be but he crossed a line with that attempted kiss, and now everything is different and difficult and all his thoughts are overtaken by the overwhelming feeling of _I’m going to lose him_.

How was that about never knowing what you have until you don’t anymore? Although in his case it’s more of a not knowing how strongly you truly feel. Playing this off as a simple crush with all its annoyances might have been understating it a bit, and he never should have allowed for it to come this far.

He can’t enjoy the concert like this, all that stays with him is the deep humming of the bass, vibrating through the hall and forcing its way into his subconscious until he finds himself still feeling it when he rushes to get home afterward.

The train is mostly empty, though with the sun long having set it’s not much of a surprise. It speeds along the tracks, shaking so much he bangs his head on the wall when he wants to lean against it. There’s not much to see outside, only lanterns and the black silhouettes of trees, and maybe if he’d sat on the other side he’d have seen the city passing by him but it would only remind him of the impending doom that is the Midsummer Market.

Now that he’s alone, he feels … Strange.

He wants to believe that maybe he didn’t screw up as much as he thought he did. After all, Tooru did clearly show signs of being interested in him, especially at the last practice camp. When he closes his eyes, he can almost feel his arms around his waist, his chest at his back.

Back then, he thought he wouldn’t want to trade his feelings away for anything. But it’s easy to think that when it doesn’t matter.

His reflection in the window stares back at him with the apathetic face he defaults to when he doesn’t know what to do. Tooru called him beautiful, but all he’s seeing is a complete idiot. Even his hair looks off today, and that’s normally a matter of brushing it and done.

He has to look away eventually and pulls out his phone instead with the full intention of texting Bokuto – not for advice but to have someone to shout his feelings out to. When he pulls up their chat though, all he can think to say is a string of unending, capitals As.

Actually, that’s a pretty good description of everything right now. _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA._ Not more needs to be said.

He buries his face in his hands and groans quietly, and when his stop comes up he almost doesn’t get out, opting to follow the train until its final stop, but he does need to sleep and shower. Not in that order.

Of course, as soon as he’s in front of his door his memory switches back to the night after he talked to Nekomata, when they shared their first extremely awkward hug—

He runs inside and slams the door shut behind him so loudly it’s sure to wake up some neighbours.

“Don’t you dare,” he mutters to himself, shakes his head almost violently and slaps his cheeks, lets the sting resonate through him. This needs to stop. He needs to stop. This is going to drive him crazy if he can’t gather his focus again.

Instead of showering or sleeping like he wanted to, he’s drawn to his keyboard, still the same old hollow-sounding thing but the best he has. He’s been spoiled by Karasuno’s wonderful equipment, as even looking at it feels like it’s begging him to be thrown out.

He sits down, turns it on, and presses a single note.

God, this thing sounds terrible.

He kind of wants to play _Crystalline_ , but everything that reminds him of Tooru is a no-go. Instead he turns on his phone’s microphone, starts a new recording, and just _plays_.

It’s a melody inspired by a lot of things he’s heard, as these tend to be, but with its own distinctive sound. Some parts sound a bit wrong, but overall he thinks he likes the tune, and he settles into a repeating pattern of verses and chorus, with some variation in between when he feels like mixing it up.

The final recording turns out to be fifteen minutes long and without thinking much, he sends it to Bokuto. Maybe the band can use it for something.

 

* * *

 

Of course, he doesn’t sleep.

How _could_ he sleep? Pushing everything aside while awake is one thing, but once his subconscious takes over, he’s defenceless. He almost falls asleep a few times only to be woken by not-quite dreams of Tooru, the good kind and the bad kind and the just plain weird kind. In one of them, Keiji turned into a wombat halfway through.

At least it happened here and not back at the camp. That would have made for some extremely embarrassing nights.

Then again, back then it might have even worked out – they were doing plenty of unusual stuff there, how much more would a near kiss have done, really. Not to mention it would have been way more romantic had they been by themselves.

He stares at the ceiling unsure of whether he wants to punch something, lock himself in his apartment and never go out again, or be brave for a change and face the issue head-on by talking to him. The latter one sounds so out of this world, he almost thinks he can do it. It is the only good conclusion, he’s well aware of that, but it’s so … Difficult.

It’s half past three when he decides he’s not getting any sleep tonight and grabs his phone from the table. Nothing good is on TV so he might as well waste time playing stupid games instead. Mai has told him to check out that rhythm game she’s playing, so he could try and give it a chance. It does look pretty fun.

What’s most surprising is that Bokuto hasn’t answered him yet. He has to have been still awake at the time and usually he replies almost immediately when he isn’t currently giving Keiji a heart attack by losing his phone. Maybe he just didn’t get notified, his phone tends to pick and choose with that, but there’s no number by the app either.

He frowns and opens it to see if he didn’t actually send it, perhaps there was a server error or the recording turned out too long after all, he didn’t check afterward so that could be it – but there’s nothing new in his and Bokuto’s chat at all, just their brief conversation from yesterday before he left for the concert.

It only takes a step back to the chat overview to find out why.

“No,” he whispers out loud. Blinks. Rubs his eyes. Exits the app and opens it again. Nothing changes. “Oh no. Oh _no_.”

When he sent it, he just opened the newest chat without checking if he got the right person, because Bokuto was the last person to text him – except he wasn’t. Shortly after him he received one from Tooru telling him he’s inside already so no need to wait for him.

He sent this spontaneous piano piece to Tooru. Without any sort of explanation. As the first attempt at communication after their almost-kiss.

Is it too late at night to call Mai to come over and punch him in the face?

(Part of him is glad he’s invisible and thus can’t see other people’s read notifications either because he’d probably die if that was the case right now.)

He has to clear this up, say it was just a wrong person situation, but starting a conversation means inevitably getting back to the topic he’s trying and failing so beautifully to avoid.

But just leaving it there without an explanation? How many ways are there that you could misinterpret this in?

Alright. Two scenarios. Scenario A, he ignores it, pretends it never happened, and in the best case confused the hell out of the person he’s in love with while in the worst case comes across as a creepy stalker who won’t leave said person alone. Scenario B, he sends an explanation, risks a conversation about the thing he should probably talk to him about anyway, and best case scenario it all turns out to be fine and he has nothing to fear or worst case scenario his and Tooru’s relationship will never be the same, but at least it was somewhat of a mutual agreement.

Damn it, he wanted there to be logical reasons to choose A.

His hand is shaking so that it takes him a good minute just to type, _I’m sorry, that was supposed to go to Bokuto-san_ , and then another to send it.

Tooru’s probably asleep anyway, right? Like a sane person. That Keiji is not.

When there’s no reply in a minute, he breathes a sigh of momentary relief before opening the app store and downloading that rhythm game. It’s a miracle he even finds it, since he’s two words off from the actual title, but at least his phone seems to understand him if no one else does.

It doesn’t take long to download and his first thought upon seeing the login screen is that it has really pretty art. It’s somewhat of a fantasy idol game from a franchise he’s vaguely aware of, with five groups of five people each, some of them female, some male, some mixed, but all stunningly pretty. The level of detail in their outfits on this screen alone makes him glad he’s a musician and not an artist, because if the latter was the case, he’d probably cry trying to replicate it.

There’s a quick tutorial and then he’s prompted to choose a starter card. He doesn’t know anything about the characters, so he’ll have to go off looks and the small description they have with them. One of the groups, the warrior-themed mixed one, has a girl that looks suspiciously like Mai – maybe that’s a sign to pick her? His opinions on the characters are still non-existent, so heck, why not.

Not-Mai, apparently named Eriya, shows up on his home screen explaining some of the functions to him, but so far he only really wants to know what the rhythm aspect is like. He’s seen a small bit of it in the tutorial, but that was mostly random taps to drum beats. The choice of songs isn’t big yet, one for each group and one he assumes is the opening to the anime or something, but they all sound nice enough.

One in particular stands out, named _Break, Shield, Heal_ ; it’s a waltz, averagely fast but it feels quicker due to the urgency of the orchestra playing while the group harmonises perfectly in a song that leaves him extremely pleasantly surprised and eager to play the beatmap after listening to the preview. He’s decent at rhythm games, so he goes for Hard mode already. What could possibly go wrong?

It turns out he actually may have a talent for this thing. As the group sings about a soldier who lost his love in the war and how he’s overcoming his struggles, he plays along effortlessly. The layout is a lot like a piano, so he feels right at home.

That is until he gets a notification that breaks his combo.

He groans, pauses the game, and heads to his message app to tell the person who just sent him something to pay for the crime they just committed – and freezes when he sees it was Tooru.

Keiji didn’t even notice he wasn’t thinking about him anymore when he played that game, but of course he had to insert himself into that too, because that’s what he does. God, he needs a vacation.

_go to sleep, Keiji._

That is what he ruined the song for? Unacceptable. _The same goes out to you. If you were asleep you wouldn’t have ruined my combo just now._

 _if you were asleep I wouldn’t have either._ Damn it, he makes a good point. Not that he could sleep right now, that’s the whole reason he’s playing in the first place.

 _I can’t sleep._ He almost adds _and it’s your fault_ but stops himself just in time, both because he does not want to talk about it and because it technically isn’t. Tooru just happens to be involved. Keiji is the one doing the stupid things.

 _neither can I, so that makes two of us ~_ He can’t blame him, he’s probably thinking about this too. Thinking about how to relay to him he has no interest without hurting his feelings too much … Or about how he’ll never talk to him in person again. Thank god there’s no rehearsal next week or he’d die an even more untimely death.

He doesn’t know what to answer him. _I’m sorry_ would probably be a good starting point but he’ll avoid that direction if he can help it. However, nothing else seems appropriate. He’s tempted to simply drop the conversation (and mute the app so he won’t get notified again) but that would be rude. Perhaps he can pretend he fell asleep …

Tooru makes a decision for him. _so … about the concert._

Oh, please no. Please no. Not now. Not here. Not over text messages, good god. He was hoping they’d ignore it, pretend it never happened, and now he doesn’t have the energy to fight back. _I’m sorry_ , he sends after all. _I don’t know what happened, but it shouldn’t have. Please just forget it._

For a long while, he doesn’t get any response.

His hands are shaking again, and he feels suspiciously like he’s about to cry, even though there’s no real need to and he’s not particularly sad, just … Extremely overwhelmed. By everything.

(This isn’t how things were supposed to happen.)

After what feels like an eternity though, a new message pops up on the screen. _I hope that doesn’t mean you’re cancelling on me <(_ _｀_ _^_ _´_ _) >_

And that message with that stupid kaomoji is what finally breaks him.

The next time he blinks, his vision is blurred from the tears welling up in his eyes, and he bites his lip to stop it from trembling but it doesn’t help and soon enough he’s clutching a pillow and sobbing like a madman over how perhaps he didn’t fuck up as badly as he thought. Because Tooru still wants to see him, and still wants to go to the Market with him, and he knows he’s overreacting but he frankly doesn’t give a damn because it’s four in the morning and he’s just about had it.

 _It doesn’t. I’m looking forward to it_ , he texts, or at least he hopes that’s what he texts as it’s very hard to read when the only thing you can see is something vaguely resembling blurry black letters on green.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, only waking up at noon on the floor with a blanket barely pulled over him from the bed and his pillow next to his head rather than underneath it.

 

* * *

 

Thursday comes too soon.

What he earlier assumed to be confidence is now steadily dripping away into a puddle of worry once more. Tooru might not hate him, but it doesn’t mean he feels the same way Keiji does. He thinks he could be okay with them remaining as friends … And yet the thought of him being with someone else is like taking a knife directly to the heart.

It’s going to be a relatively cool evening, so that gives him an excuse to wear Tooru’s cardigan, although right now it feels more like too heavy of a weight, as does the owl necklace. But it happens to fit with the outfit he meticulously picked out – read, the only one he owns he thinks would be suitable for what he still thinks is at least kind of a date – so he can’t complain too much.

It’s not just about Tooru though. Today, he’ll finally get answers about Mai and why she dislikes him so much. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t still adamant to know about it.

It should be so easy. He’s been alone with him before, even in a date-like situation or two. And yet it feels like there’s so many things to do wrong he wonders if he’ll be capable of doing anything but nod along and hope it’s over soon.

Not that he has a choice.

His doorbell rings at precisely 8 PM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, here goes nothing


	29. Redire ad Patria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this chapter but AO3 was like. nope lol. that long-ass A/N you wrote? it's gone now sorry! why fuck you too AO3 you kILLED MY VIBE
> 
> anyway it was something along this lines of this
> 
> I looked up piano prices for this chapter and what the fuck. I almost had a heart attack. I picked one of the more expensive ones for the chapter but there's still much more where that came from and the """"cheap"""" ones aren't that much better either. I don't even wanna know how much a grand piano costs. one day when I'm rich and famous I'll buy one for my mansion so I can play my forty-eight alpacas a lullaby every night
> 
> chapters this month might slow down a bit! I'm working on a big Halloween oneshot that I definitely want to finish within the month so that's probably what I should focus on, and uni's starting again soon as well. knowing me, nothing will change after all, but if it does I just wanna warn you. °^°)/ 
> 
> this chapter killed me with feelings. local youtaite found dead over her own fic again, more news at 10. the beginning was hard to get through though, I didn't know how to start it for a while, but then the rest went so smoothly I powered through it in like. three days. really happy with how it turned out too, considering how huge of a chapter it is plot-wise!
> 
> "redire ad patria" means "to return to the motherland". it's a bit on-the-nose, but I guess in a modern song that just happens to be written in Latin nobody really cares aside from people who like Latin like me. to me it sounds a bit silly. but that's kinda the point, since it's newer in-universe wise, so. '-'
> 
> (I wonder who mystery girl is ... I wonder if she'll ever show up in the story ................... I wonder)

Tooru looks incredibly confused when Keiji opens the door.

He’s staring at him from behind his glasses with the smallest of frowns, slightly parted lips, and flushed cheeks. It’s adorable, that much he has to admit, but it only serves to confuse him as well. Of all the faces you would make at someone opening a door after you rang the doorbell at the agreed time, this has to be on the bottom end of the list.

“Hello?” Keiji starts slowly, wondering if he’s mentally present or still stuck in whatever reality he must have come from.

“Uh. Hey.” He blinks, once, twice, shakes his head, blinks again, and clears his throat. “I was … I was going to say something, but I forgot what it was as soon as I rang.”

This is the person he’s in love with. Between this and his best friends, he has to reconsider his taste in people.

“I’m going to assume it was ‘Good evening’.”

He narrows his eyes. Stares at the ceiling for a moment. When he looks down, he appears more put together, but only a little bit. “Yeah, that might have been it. Good evening. Yup, sounds about right.”

How could he ever have been scared of this? All his nervousness has fallen away now that he’s actually seeing him again and nothing seems out of the ordinary. Avoiding him must have done worse things to him than he thought – maybe he should have just let him talk back at the concert when he was trying to.

Okay, scratch that ‘maybe’, he definitely should have, if only out of courtesy. But he was overwhelmed, so he’ll forgive himself for it.

 _Just forget it_ , he said that night, but now he wonders if he truly wanted him to.

“We should go before you explode from overthinking this,” he says (ironically, considering he’s mastered the art of overthinking). He hesitates for the fraction of a second before remembering this is technically a date and he can hug him if he damn well pleases, so he does. Tooru freezes at first – it’s a moment of _oh no, I should not have done that_ , but he doesn’t even have time to feel properly embarrassed before he returns the hug, pulls him closer even.

He breathes in his scent and melts into his touch, and when he closes his eyes he can imagine they’ve passed the difficult part already.

They stay like this for just a heartbeat too long but eventually have to let go, and he didn’t even realise how much his heart was pounding in his chest.

“So then,” he says too quietly, stumbling to regain his composure. “Let’s go before it gets too late. I trust you know the way?”

“Leave it to me and Oshirun,” Tooru replies with a smirk too proud for something as trivial as knowing how to get to the city centre. Also, he doesn’t think Oshirun has a built-in navigation system, so Oshirun doesn’t know anything, which subsequently makes him a liar.

None of this matters, but it all feels like it does; every step, every movement, every last gaze has to be as perfect as he can manage.

And he knows full well he needs to prepare himself for whatever horror story Tooru is about to tell him.

 

* * *

 

Getting a parking spot was a difficult feat, getting a parking spot that doesn’t cost so much money Tooru feels inclined to glare at the ticket and stick out his tongue at the ticket machine on their way out of the parking lot was impossible. They also have to walk quite a bit – they went for a weekday to avoid this situation, so why didn’t it work? This Midsummer Market has to be more of a visitor magnet than he realised.

He takes a deep breath once they’re out of the musky parking lot, taking in the air that’s too cool for summer but he doesn’t mind. It means wearing Tooru’s cardigan was the right decision and he much prefers it over the ridiculous heat back in June.

Come to think of it, it’s already mid-August. The semester ends next month … Which also means their concert is going to be next month.

It’s easy to forget how soon it is.

But he won’t let that deter him from this. He’s going to make this evening as pleasant as possible, no thinking about the concert allowed.

“You know,” Tooru muses as they wait for a traffic light to turn green, “it’s probably a good thing we’re coming from here … We can walk down everything in a straight line instead of starting somewhere in the middle. It just means we’ll have to take the same way back.”

“I don’t mind that.” At least he doesn’t mind the thought of it right now, he might regret that sentiment later down the line. “Let’s take our time.”

“Obviously. You’re so clueless about this place, I don’t think an evening will be enough to give you even an idea of what it’s like!”

He can’t be mad at him for stating the truth, but it does make him feel kind of stupid. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually.”

“Don’t get used to it, that’s the whole point,” Tooru argues when they can finally cross the street. Keiji doesn’t really know what he means, but nods anyway.

The closer they get to the city centre, the more people show up around them, but not as many as he thought with how bad their parking situation was. Perhaps it’s just because a lot of people live here, and the Market isn’t the only thing attracting them, he supposes. Strangely or maybe not, a lot of them seem to be couples, on their way to the city’s supposedly famous fair to spend the evening with the one they love, the slowly setting sun colouring the world faint colours of red and orange among the fading blue.

Do they assume him and Tooru to be a couple as well?

His own thoughts are stirring up those annoyingly familiar feelings inside him, and he stares at the paved ground they’re walking on, head raised just enough to know when he’s about to walk into something. _Breathe, Keiji. Don’t be stupid. Don’t ruin this._

Taking his hand doesn’t seem out of the question, especially since he has the excuse of ‘we might get separated’. But would that be too reminiscent of the concert, which they’re not talking about anymore and hopefully (?) have swept under the rug? He does want to, he’s already hyperaware of the person walking next to him talking about something …

“Keiji? You’re not listening, are you? That’s so rude.”

He blinks and shakes his head to clear his mind, then dares to look at Tooru, who (predictably) is pouting at him. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I _said_ ,” he starts, speaking extra slowly, “that it’s rude you’re not listening to me.”

“No, I mean, before that,” Keiji says, though he won’t dispute the fact.

“Geez, you really didn’t pay attention! Remind me again why I like you?”

He’s about to shoot something back but his mind is blank. Why _does_ he like him? It’s a question he still hasn’t cleared up, and now that they’re … Like this … It’s more relevant than ever. “Because I’m your precious kouhai or something,” he answers lamely a few beats too late, and it lacks the deadpan sarcastic sound he was meaning to put into it. Overthinking is killing his comebacks, it seems.

“You’re not precious. You won’t even give me my cardigan back.” He pulls at the fabric and clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Jacket-stealing demon, was it?”

“It’s mine now,” Keiji reiterates for the millionth time.

“Just because you stole it doesn’t mean …” Tooru stops mid-sentence and he’s about to ask him where the rest of that went when he slips behind him and covers his eyes, forcing a shamefully high-pitched squeal out of him.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t tell you or else it won’t be a surprise! Now just move along, we’re almost there.” He feels him pushing for him to move, but his knees are turning into pudding, making it extremely difficult to so much as take a step forward. Somehow they manage to round a corner, then walk a few more metres until he stops him. “Here we go. So … Welcome to the Midsummer Market!”

All his complaints and conflicting feelings immediately fade away upon the sight of the main street.

Lanterns are _everywhere_ , paper and steel and glass and everything else. But this isn’t like the festival where everything was colourful and flashy and bright as day even in the middle of the night – instead the light they give off is warm, welcoming, though not overbearing even in the sheer multitude of it. For a second he thinks night has fallen in the short time he couldn’t see, but then he realises that the sky is obscured by fabric instead, a ceiling of stitched together blankets spanning over them high up from the gate they have just passed through down the entire street, and he can’t tell where it ends but it has to be massive.

Underneath the ceiling there’s stands, so many stands, with people swarming around chattering peacefully and inspecting the goods they sell, and it smells like food and bonfires and this has got to be a safety hazard but how could anyone care if it looks like this? It’s like he’s entered a whole other world – this is something straight out of a fairy tale.

The music is like that too, an old chant playing from speakers he can’t see, or perhaps it’s a choir singing somewhere down the street. It’s a song he knows well – one named _Redire ad Patria_. It may sound old, but if the sheet music they got at Fukurodani back in his first year was any indication, it’s from only a few years ago. The Latin lyrics tell an ancient story about a former war hero is now coming back to his hometown, tired but happy, and they throw him a celebration like anyone has ever seen before. Hearing the song again sets off all sorts of nostalgic feelings, and on top of that it suits this place perfectly. He feels like the man in the song who returned home to find a festival larger than life.

All of it has him gaping, unable to say a single word.

“Did you look it up before we came here?” Tooru asks, smile audible in his voice, and Keiji shakes his head.

“No. You said it was like a Christmas fair, so I thought it can’t be that different,” he murmurs as he looks around. They just passed through the gate, a high arc with golden letters spelling out the name of the Market at the top, but it feels like they’ve travelled a million kilometres. No wonder this place is so well-loved – it’s just oozing magic. He’s been here for a minute and he already doesn’t want to leave ever again. “I don’t know what kind of Christmas fairs you’ve visited if that’s what you’re comparing it to though.”

“I mean, I had to describe it somehow!” Well, from the stands it does look a lot like a Christmas fair, but the atmosphere is something else entirely. He presumes the blanket ceiling, judging by its height and how it stretches over them, is attached to the higher stories of the buildings framing the street. It means that you’ll be able to see inside even from the windows of the stores, getting a better overview of the situation.

“Is … Is the entire city like this?”

“Just the main street. Once you get to the side streets, it’s like any other fair. Still really pretty though. But you’ll see that when we get there …” He sighs and pushes his glasses up, and when Keiji looks at him his gaze is fixed at nothing in particular. It might just be the colour of the lights, but he thinks his cheeks are coloured a faint shade of red. “There’s one thing I should probably tell you though.”

Oh no, what’s coming now? If he’s trying to come up with some excuse to not tell him about Mai, he doesn’t care how beautiful this is, he’s going to leave. Somehow. Where’s the train station again?

“I lied to you. I mean, I didn’t _lie_ , I just … Neglected to tell you something.”

“What is it,” Keiji deadpans and crosses his arms, staring him down a menacingly as possible. This would all be significantly easier if they could just be straightforward. That goes out to himself too …

“You remember when I said it was a tradition to come here?” Tooru pushes his glasses up again, as if he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands. It makes Keiji nervous in return, especially coupled with that long awkward pause, until he can’t stand it anymore and puts his hands on Tooru’s to pull them down and keep them occupied. Which leads to them standing there holding hands, looking at each other wordlessly.

This is more awkward than before. Not his best plan.

“Anyway,” Tooru starts again after a moment, then clears his throat. “That part is still true. It is a tradition, and I still can’t believe you didn’t even know the Market existed. Seriously, you need to get out more!”

“Stop stalling.”

He narrows his eyes at him and shakes his head. “ _Anyway_ ,” he repeats, “I may have … Accidentally left out the part where it’s even more of a tradition to take your significant other … And where getting asked out to it is usually a pretty big deal.”

His voice goes so quiet at the end he needs a moment to run it through his head again to understand what he said.

Then it hits him.

What he just told him was essentially … That this is not just a date, but _the_ date.

“You were so clueless about it I thought I could use that to my advantage!” he defends himself, though it’s really not a defence rather than a confession to his crime. “And it all would have worked out perfectly fine if … You know, the concert … I wasn’t planning on telling you until after the fact but then that happened and now I have no idea anymore if you actually _want_ … I mean, since you told me to just forget …” His words trail off into nothing.

Suddenly he’s very aware of their hands touching.

Processing this is going to take a while.

“Don’t run away though, I’m fine with this just being a … Friendship thing … And I still need to tell you about Mai-chan, so. Uh. Yes. That.”

“I don’t mind,” Keiji blurts out without thinking.

Tooru blinks. Frowns. “Which part don’t you mind?”

“The whole thing.” He’s making this more embarrassing by the second, but he can’t stop. “You could have told me, that’s true, but … I don’t mind.”

“So …” He leans forward to inspect his expression more closely, but all he’s going to find is confusion that mirrors his own. Heck, Keiji himself has no idea what he’s doing. “Are you saying you’re okay with knowing that and going as friends regardless? Or are you saying you’re okay making this a date?”

“Making it?” he repeats dryly. He’s been thinking of this as a date ever since he got asked. “Ah, I mean … The latter.”

Despite everything, it’s difficult to say it out loud.

“Oh.” He leans back out, eyes widened in realisation, though not without a hint of confusion still. “And here I thought you were running from your feelings. But hey, I won’t complain.”

He can tell he’s trying to be suave and cool by brushing it off like that, but it doesn’t really work considering how shaky his voice still is and how his cheeks have got to be the same colour as Keiji’s by now. It’s both relieving and incredibly stressful.

That was … Not really a love confession, not in the literal sense of the word anyway. All they confessed to was wanting to go on a date – that doesn’t automatically mean there’s going to be more to it. But it’s also a confession of … Mutual interest.

Somebody save him before his heart explodes.

“So … Should we go then, Keiji?” The way he says his name takes his breath away, makes him unable to speak so he can only nod. One of his hands lets go, but the other stays in Tooru’s, holding on tightly to make sure they won’t get separated because honestly, he doesn’t trust himself to go anywhere right now.

And he lets himself get pulled into the warmly lit magic that is the Midsummer Market.

There’s a stand for everything. Home-crafted jewellery made from amber and wood and leather rope, carefully sewn clothes you couldn’t get anywhere in a store, plushies that are more expensive than some of the famous brand ones. All sorts of small decorations, filigree and far too pretty to put in an apartment as small and bland as his own. So many books, some of which in languages he’s never even heard of. Even the instrument store has its stand right by the building it’s in, and he plays the piano they have on display, but stops before he falls in love with it too much and ends up buying it with money he doesn’t have. Their violins look really pretty too … And they have quite an arrangement of flutes. He should take Mai here sometime if she still wants to learn.

“You should buy this,” Tooru muses and runs his fingers over the keys of the piano.

“Sure, if you give me the money.” It’s a shame, he really is growing annoyed with his keyboard, but he can’t afford something new right now. Getting his E-Piano from home is still a plan in the back of his mind, but it’s so far away and transporting it would be a problem too. He doubts they’ll let him take that on the train or the bus.

“First the necklace, now a piano? Slow down a bit, we’re not together yet.”

“You bought that necklace for me, I had no say in it,” he shoots back.

( _Yet_ , echoes his voice in his head.)

Instead of answering, Tooru heads for the counter, switches on what he can only assume is his brightest deliberate smile, and says in a sugary sweet voice to the old man taking care of the stand, “Excuse me, sir? That piano, it’s for sale, right? How much is it, if I may ask?”

“That one’s … One million and a half yen.”

 _Ouch_. Yeah, no way he’s buying that anytime soon.

He sees Tooru wince too, but his smile is undeterred. “Wow, that’s … A lot. I mean, I understand it, it’s quality work!”

The old man grins proudly. “It sure is! And you can only get it here. Our store has a partnership with the company making it, so you’re in luck.”

“Oh, that’s amazing,” Tooru exclaims, and Keiji thinks he’s never heard anyone’s voice drip with fake enthusiasm quite like his. Somehow he still almost believes it though. “Keiji here and I are at Karasuno, so we’d really need a good piano to practice on … But that’s a little bit out of our budget, to be honest … If we could get a discount—”

“No.” The patience on the old man’s face doesn’t waver. “We’ve already gone down with the price to make it more accessible, we cannot do more, Karasuno student or no. Good luck with your studies though.”

Well, that was a failure. “Points for trying,” he mutters when Tooru turns back around and his smile immediately falls. If looks could kill, the old man would be dead where he stands.

“So stingy! He didn’t even give me a chance!”

“What did you expect, that he’d hand it to you because you look cute when you’re trying to seem nice?” He can’t help his own smirk – he’s adorable when he tries too hard.

“Don’t be so smug, I was doing that for you.”

“Please don’t or you’ll completely embarrass yourself,” Keiji says and reaches for his hand again to appease him. “More than you already did, anyway.”

“You’re uninvited.”

“Too late, I’m already here.”

It hurts just a bit to leave that stand and that beautiful, beautiful piano, but it has to be done. Maybe someday he’ll be rich and famous and can buy something even better, like the grand piano in their rehearsal room.

While they’re walking down the street, stopping every two metres to look at something new, their fingers intertwine, a sensation somehow different from their simple handholding before. If you could justify holding the hand of a friend, this would be much more difficult to explain away.

But this is officially a date, so he simply relishes in the feeling rather than overthink it for a change.

Unlike at the festival, there’s no big crowd of people. It’s not empty by any means, but it doesn’t feel like he’s going to get suffocated by the sheer amount of visitors. Everything flows without much issue. All they need to do is follow along.

After about half an hour they stop at a taiyaki stand for a snack. If there’s one thing he dislikes about this place, it’s that the prices are atrocious, and the food is no exception, but the chocolate cream is delicious so he doesn’t mind.

“What did you get?” he asks with his mouth full. Tooru holds out his taiyaki to him – even though he’s taken a bite already, in this lighting it’s hard to see if it’s potato or custard. After a short moment of consideration (and swallowing his own food), he leans forward to simply taste it himself.

Sweet potato it is. He would have taken him for a chocolate person, but this suits him too.

Tooru whispers something he doesn’t catch, but when he raises an eyebrow in question, all he gets is, “Nothing.”

They get going again soon after, still at their snail pace from before. He can’t help it – it’s like everyone who is selling has agreed on a theme to keep with that transforms this place into something reminiscent of an old picture book. To be fair, they probably have, they have a reputation to keep up after all.

They’re close all the while. Occasionally he feels Tooru’s hand resting on his hips when he looks over his shoulder to see what has Keiji all occupied again, and the further they walk the more they lean into each other, until he can’t remember what it’s like to be on his own. The thought alone that eventually they’ll have to part ways makes his left side feel cold.

It also carries with it a few problems, mainly that it’s getting more difficult to concentrate. He wants to look around and see everything, but as soon as his attention shifts to his environment he’s drawn back into Tooru’s atmosphere, rinse and repeat. It gets a little confusing.

Eventually they stop at one of the side streets, where, just as he said, the sky is visible above them, glittering with stars already. They spent a long time inside that … Honestly, from outside looking in, it looks like a tube almost, sealed off by buildings and the fabric above them.

There are a few more stands out here as well, but they head for a fountain instead. Since night has fallen, the lanterns are just as beautiful out here, though not as plentiful, and their light is reflecting in the water. It makes Tooru look almost angelic when he sits down on the low stone wall surrounding it.

Keiji quickly follows – he wouldn’t be able to handle seeing that for too long without doing something he might regret.

Even though it hasn’t been stressful so far, this feels like a moment of quiet. Nobody else is here save for the salespeople behind the stands, and they seem occupied enough and probably too far away to hear them if they started talking now. Unless he screamed, which, admittedly, would be a pretty good representation of his inner feelings right now.

He doesn’t scream though, just lets his head drop on Tooru’s shoulder and takes a deep breath of the cool summer night air.

They’re quiet for a long time.

“I don’t want to tell you,” Tooru whines quietly after what feels like an eternity, and it reminds him that right, there was a point to this.

“How terrible could it be?” He can’t think of anything that would make him like him less. Well, except for things like having killed someone or set a kindergarten on fire. Which would also kill someone. Most likely.

“It’s not, it’s just …” His sigh rivals one of Keiji’s. Either he’s rubbing off on him or he’s just that exasperated. Maybe both. “It feels so wrong to talk about an ex-girlfriend with the person I like.”

He sits up straight in record speed. “You dated Mai?” he asks before he can even fully grasp what he just said.

“What? No! Of course not! Don’t jump to conclusions!” Tooru sounds notably offended. He can’t decide if he wants to be relieved or outraged – it’s about one of his best friends after all, he could at least _pretend_ to like the idea. “I never even talked to her before she joined choir. Or maybe once, I don’t know. It would have been trivial either way.”

Keiji vaguely remembers him saying something about Mai’s friend that this all has to do with and almost blurts out that he must have dated that friend then, but the truth is he has no idea. All he knows is that the thought of Tooru dating someone that isn’t him is extremely bothersome, no matter how unlikely it would have been for him to never have had a relationship. “So, what is it about then?”

“I didn’t date Mai …” He pauses to run a hand through his hair. He’s so obviously stalling, but he can’t fault him if it’s really that uncomfortable of a topic. “But I did know her. Peripherally. I’ve seen her before a few times. She was the friend of a girl I was going out with at that time, two years ago in high school.”

So his second assumption was right after all. It makes him feel a bit defeated, but at least he can piece the rest together now, at least parts of it. “And you somehow mistreated her best friend, which is why Mai is still mad at you.”

“Excellent combination, Keiji … I just wish it was that simple.” A bitter smile appears on his face. “Yes, that’s technically what went down, but the truth is … In Iwa-chan’s words, I fucked up big time. I really liked her, you know. It was the first time I really wanted something to last … And then there was Ushiwaka-chan.”

Oh god, is this turning into a love triangle? He doesn’t think he could handle that.

“I always hated that guy. He’s one of those people that take their talent for granted and look at you weird when you can’t keep up. So I made a bet with him on which one of us would go pro first. I won, by the way, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge that. ‘Being an extra in a musical isn’t going pro’ my ass, Ushiwaka-chan.”

Well, that explains why he was so hostile when Keiji told him about their meeting. What a petty argument, though he’s not necessarily surprised.

“Back in junior high, Iwa-chan would always kick my butt if I overworked … Which tended to happen a lot, to be honest. But he was busy with volleyball in high school so we didn’t see each other as much as we used to, and it ended with me working on music stuff pretty much non-stop. Practicing the piano, practicing singing, auditioning for roles, working with the drama club to polish my acting … On top of school, I had pretty much no free time. I mean, I could handle it! But …” He clears his throat and stares at the ground, lowering his voice when he says, “I may or may not have neglected my girlfriend pretty badly at the time. And I was so absorbed in work I lashed out at her when she interrupted me … More than once. She’s always been timid, so she didn’t ever speak up and tell me how stupid and childish I was being …”

“Until one day it got too much and you scared her away completely,” Keiji finishes and receives a weak nod.

“She was crying really badly. It was my wake-up call, but it was too late. I wrote _Crystalline_ for her later, but I don’t think she ever heard it, and if she did she doesn’t care.”

_Coated in starlight, the river is flowing / it never knows how to halt in its tracks / just like I never learned how to breathe._

_Pulling me under the surface, you’re reaching / and I would let you all over again / because I’ve long unlearned how to stop._

That person must have meant so much to him.

He almost doesn’t dare ask, but finds himself doing it anyway. “Are you still in love with her?”

“No,” comes the answer so quickly he almost jumps in surprise. “I don’t know if I ever was, to be honest. I mean, she was important to me, definitely, but I think it’s more that I got used to her? Her presence was so calming and when she was gone, it felt like something was missing. In hindsight, maybe I just liked being her friend.”

It sounds a bit stupid, to write a dramatic song like that for a friend, but when he thinks about Bokuto and how much it hurt to fear losing him, he can understand it a bit better.

“But, anyway, I’m pretty sure that’s why Mai-chan’s so mad at me. Or maybe I’m completely wrong. Maybe I accidentally ran over her cat with Oshirun or something.”

He’s not quite sure what to say.

This isn’t as terrible as he feared, but it’s obvious it’s eating away at Tooru. He can’t deny he did, in fact, ‘fuck up big time’ with that. If it had been Keiji in that girl’s situation, he doesn’t know what he would have done.

He reaches out to place his hand on Tooru’s, who looks up at him with so many difficult questions written clearly on his face. It might be the first time he can tell without a doubt what he’s thinking. “You thought I’d hate you for that?”

“I mean, I was being a huge ass to her. I’d understand if you were mad at me. I hurt her, which in return must have hurt Mai-chan, and that’s now hurting you … I was hoping I could forget about it once I got that song out of my system, but then you showed up at the open day and you were listening so intently … I couldn’t look away. And then you join the choir and _sing_ the damn thing!”

So he didn’t dislike him in the beginning because he butchered _Crystalline_ , but because it reminded him of something he wanted to forget. Which still makes his comments back then uncalled for, but at least he gets it now. And it’s not like he was wrong.

But the thought of being noticed in the crowd at the open day still blows his mind. It’s like when he was captivated by Tooru’s solo, except that guy actually did something people would pay attention to.

“I don’t hate you,” he says quietly and smiles, just a bit. It’s difficult enough to do, with his lips and hands and entire body trembling. “You made a mistake. It happens.”

“Not usually,” he whispers. Then, louder, he adds, “That’s good though. I don’t know what I’d do if you did. I meant it when I said I care about you … Immensely. Either way, I’m sorry for all this mess … In the end it’s my fault, huh.”

“Kind of,” Keiji has to admit, but not out of malice. Tooru lightly shoves him with an offended huff and he laughs. “I’m glad you finally told me though. Everything makes a lot more sense now. I just wish you could make up with Mai somehow.”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not.”

“I’m trying to try.”

“Hm … If you put in more effort I may start believing that.”

“One more word and I’m leaving you here.”

“Oh no, whatever will I do?” Keiji smirks and drapes an arm over Tooru’s shoulders, moving in closely until their faces are almost touching. It comes almost naturally to him all of a sudden. “I’m not letting you leave.”

“You’re just keeping me around as your personal chauffeur, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Geez, and here I thought you liked me.”

“I do,” he answers too quickly. God, Tooru has no idea how much he does, especially right now, after he finally got clearance and he finally feels like he knows him for real.

This feels a lot like the incident before the concert, if he thinks about it – except this time, there’s no secrets between them.

And this time, their lips connect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh


	30. Constellation Teardrops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man I like the lyrics in this chapter ... especially when they're actually sung. which, admittedly, you don't hear so idk how it sounds to you but. (I swear someday I'll record everything)
> 
> dang this chapter is full of cheese ... and I love it ... I mean I did announce the cheese in the tags so I do have to deliver. here I thought I'd dropped my self-acclaimed title of That One Girl Who Can Only Write Fluff but it still is my favourite thing to do ... I like making them suffer but I also like making them happy aaaaaAAAAAA
> 
> before I go to bed because it's 3:20AM and I have uni tomorrow I'm just gonna use this opportunity to share one of my greatest inspiration for like, the entirety of my Akaoi writing: Tightrope by Kelly Clarkson! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apyY3fpi3So) maybe you'll recognise some lyrics from certain lines in this chapter, hehe. specifically the chorus always gets me ugh. also there's no instrumental version so I actually had to learn how to play it on the piano to sing it ... thankfully it's pretty easy. I would have totally used it as the insert song in this chapter if it wasn't for my strict "originals only" policy. which is less of a policy and more of a tradition I don't want to break, because it'd look super weird.
> 
> ALSO I GOT TO PET A VERY VERY SOFT DOG TODAY AND I'M STILL BLESSED
> 
> anyway I'm absolutely going to bed now because otherwise I'll be dead tomorrow gOOD NIGHT

It’s like finally falling asleep after hours of not quite being pulled into oblivion.

As soon as their lips touch, he feels a wave of warmth wash over him, and if he didn’t know how much he craved this before he knows now. Tooru is stiff for approximately a millisecond before kissing him back, raising a hand to Keiji’s cheek to stabilise their somewhat awkward position, with Keiji’s arm still draped over Tooru’s shoulders while sitting dangerously close to the edge. It’s a little bit inconvenient, maybe they should have stood up or he should have at least adjusted his sitting position, and he’s sure he’s making a fool out of himself, but none of that matters.

Because he’s kissing Tooru, and he’s never felt safer.

His lips are warm even in the increasingly cool air, and they’re soft and taste like strawberries – he does seem like the type to use flavoured lip balm –, but what’s most overwhelming is just how close they are. With all of their hugging and casual touches, this still feels like crossing a line.

Perhaps it’s because he loves him so much and he can’t think rationally – even so, he can’t imagine anything to feel better than this.

Tooru softly gasps for air when they break apart, face a bright red and eyes half-closed, and Keiji almost kisses him again upon seeing how beautiful he is like this. His glasses are a bit tilted too; he didn’t even notice he was probably bumping into them.

“Huh,” he breathes. “That … Uhm.”

How extremely eloquent, not that Keiji’s one to talk. At least Tooru got out _something_ while he’s still rendered speechless.

He doesn’t know what surprises him more: that this happened or that he was the one who initiated it.

‘Sorry,’ he wants to say but not a word comes out of his mouth. He moves his arm away only for Tooru to grab his hand, run his thumb over it leaving a trail of that oddly comforting electric sensation across his skin. He’s staring at him and he can’t look away, there’s too many things keeping his gaze fixed on those annoyingly beautiful chocolate brown eyes.

He opens his mouth again to try and say something – anything – and when he finally finds some sort of confidence in his own ability to speak, he has a long list of things to tell him right here and now but what ends up coming out is,

“I love you.”

He jumps from the wall in shock at his own words half a second later.

Is he stupid? _I love you_? What kind of idiot would say that after their first kiss? Most people are taken aback by it even when they’ve been dating for a while and he just blurts it out like it’s no big deal? God, out of all the things he could have said, talk about being needlessly creepy, he must be coming off as so clingy and weird and just all around terrible—

“I’m sorry … I’m … I shouldn’t have said that, I mea—”

He’s cut short by arms drawing him close and lips pressing against his. Awkwardly this time, with no real sense of direction, and gone again so quickly he almost doesn’t realise something happened.

It does do a very good job of making him shut up, that’s for certain. For a short moment, they just stand there in each other’s arms and look at each other, both equal amounts of baffled if he had to guess.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tooru eventually says. “I panicked!”

“And your first impulse was to kiss me.” That sounds … Highly unlikely, even if suddenly it shouldn’t, but it’s going to be difficult to turn off those doubtful voices in his head.

He clears his throat. “I mean, that’s kind of been my first impulse at pretty much everything you did for the past few months, so it’s nothing new, really …”

 _Months_.

There’s no way it’s been months.

He has got to be joking.

“You can be honest with me,” he says, because he sure as hell isn’t going to believe that. If it’s been moths, he should have known. Something should have happened.

“I am! I swear!” He doesn’t look like he’s lying, but it still doesn’t make sense. Yes, he has shown some sort of interest in him, but he would have assumed him to eventually grow tired and make a move. Tooru doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would internalise stuff like this. “Seriously, that face is … You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Why would I believe you? I don’t even understand why you’d like me like this in the first place.”

The look he receives is the most dumbfounded one he has ever had the luxury of laying his eyes upon.

“You’re kidding, right? You can’t be serious. I’ve spent all this time somehow trying to fall into your good grace and you— I can’t believe this.”

He’s not sure how much more of this he can take until he melts into a small, very confused puddle. He doesn’t even know what to respond, and it seems like Tooru is waiting for him to but he doesn’t have anything to say that isn’t essentially ‘that makes no sense’, so he just looks at him very intently and hopes it’s reason enough to take this conversation somewhere.

A few seconds tick by before he gets the hint and steps away from him, though his hands are still resting on his waist, so it’s not all bad.

(Keiji doesn’t particularly want him to ever let go but even in this state has to realise that’s a bit of a ludicrous idea.)

“Seriously,” Tooru mutters, slowly shaking his head. “Maybe I should have said something earlier if that’s what you were thinking … I’ve had a crush on you since the first practice camp, stupid!”

What.

“If you don’t believe me, just ask Dai-chi. Or Iwa-chan. Or Kuro-chan … Or anyone in the Seijoh group chat …” He looks to the ground and adds, extremely quietly, “I mean, Iwa-chan blocked me for two weeks because he got tired of hearing me talk about you, so. He can vouch for this. Still, that was pretty rude of him. Even more so than usual …”

No, hold on, he isn’t following. Yes, the first practice camp was when they started to get along better, but … He can’t wrap his head around this. “I thought you disliked me until then.” You don’t just fall for someone this easily.

“I did! I mean, kind of? I wanted to, but mostly I was interested in you. You were so different from what I thought when I saw you at the open day.” The ever present blush on his cheek deepens and his grip on Keiji’s waist tightens, as if he’s trying to keep himself from fiddling with his hands. “I thought I might get along with you after all when I met you practicing that night. It reminded me of myself, and I remember thinking we may not be all that different. And then, on the next day, I found you in that little room playing the piano and singing that … That terribly happy version of _Crystalline_.”

He flinches at the memory. Knowing what the song is about makes that version seem pretty out of place. Keiji almost doesn’t dare ask, but his curiosity gets the better of him. “How … How much of that did you see?”

“The whole thing. Pretty much. You were so caught up in it, you wouldn’t have noticed an explosion, so I could just stand there and watch.” A nervous giggle escapes him, and it might be the cutest sound Keiji has ever heard. “I mean, the song itself was okay at best …” He takes that back, Tooru isn’t cute at all. “But your smile was so genuine and beautiful and all I could think about was that it was my song making you feel that way, and that … I wanted to see it again.

“At first it was just some stupid crush that I thought would go away eventually, but hey, look how great that worked out! I thought getting to know you and befriending you could help, so that I wouldn’t fall for some dumb idealised version of you but it didn’t. At all. It just got worse and worse until … Well, until Iwa-chan blocked me … I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t stop wanting to be close to you and every time I look at you it’s like you light up everything around you and the worst part is that you don’t even _try_. There’s a reason why Nekomata wanted you to stand in the spotlight, you know. You don’t even know how much potential you have and part of me wants to hate you for it but I just _can’t_ because you mean the world to me and I …”

It’s eerily similar to the first time he saw him sing.

Even breathing seems too loud.

Tooru’s hands reach for Keiji’s, and he squeezes them, lightly and with a strange feeling of uncertainty, and when he looks up to meet his gaze he looks oddly stubborn. “I love you and it’s the most annoying thing but by now I really don’t want it to stop.”

There’s so many things he’s feeling all at once and so many thoughts swirling around in his head that his body eventually resorts to one reaction.

His next breath shudders and before he knows it, he’s crying.

“Keiji?!” he hears Tooru say but he can’t answer, not when everything comes crushing down all at once and with his tears his emotions are flowing freely. All his reluctant hope, all his uncertainty, all his stupid pining and overthinking and screwing up everything that’s humanly possible to screw up have somehow led to this and part of him still wants to scream that it doesn’t make any sense but if there’s one thing he absolutely knows right now is that he’s never been told anything even remotely this genuine and it’s the very words he was wanting for so long to hear—

Is this a dream? It has to be a dream.

But Tooru feels real when he falls against him unable to do anything else, when he’s sobbing into his shoulder and feels his hand awkwardly patting his back, when he wraps his arms around him and squeezes him in a hug that he never wants to let go of. And he smells just like that dumb cardigan back when he first gave it to him, a smell he’s started to associate with home and warmth because of said dumb cardigan and somehow he wasn’t even all that far off.

Keiji wouldn’t usually consider himself such an outwardly emotional person, but Tooru is obnoxiously good at messing up his status quo.

“Uh … Did I say something wrong?” he hears Tooru ask quietly. He sounds like he has no idea what’s happening, and honestly, Keiji feels the same way. He has no reason to cry but here he is and even when he starts thinking more clearly again, he can’t seem to find an off switch.

“No,” he manages to say before getting interrupted by another sob.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-yes.”

It takes a long time for him to calm down, accompanied only by the music from the distant Market and Tooru’s vaguely panicked “there, there”s, but it does happen eventually and when there are no tears left to cry, he just stands there leaning into him for a moment and breathing in the cooling air.

“You’ve ruined my shirt,” Tooru complains. “I’m breaking up with you.”

The only reason he’s able to step off him is that he needs to stare at him very doubtfully. It’s a necessity. “We’re not together.”

“What, after all of that you still don’t consider us boyfriends? I’m hurt, Keiji.” He crosses his arms and gives him the smallest of pouts. “I mean, if I absolutely have to, I’ll ask you out, but I’ve already embarrassed myself enough tonight.”

“No.” There’s not a trace of doubt in his mind, not anymore, so his voice is clear and his smile isn’t wavering when he says, “Please go out with me, Tooru.”

The look he receives is so funny he has to bite his lip to not start laughing out loud. Tooru looks like he’s just had his hamster stolen by his most trusted friend.

“You beat me to it,” he states matter-of-factly, though not without a hint of hurt pride. “You kissed me first, then you confessed first, and now you formally asked me out first? I lost all three times? _Inconceiveable_.”

Even though this isn’t a competition, it still feels good to have won. But he supposes he has to cut him a bit of slack, considering how everything went before that. “You asked me out to the Market first, that technically counts as a confession.”

“It doesn’t and you know it.” Well, if he wants to dig this grave for himself, Keiji shall let him.

“That’s nice, but you still haven’t answered me.”

“Geez, if I absolutely have to …” His tone, he has to admit, is a perfect imitation of reluctance, but his blush and slight smile are giving him away. “Sure, why not.”

“Playing the tsundere now, huh,” he mutters to himself. It’s significantly easier than dealing with the fact that starting now, they’re officially dating, apparently.

Tooru is his boyfriend.

Oikawa Tooru. His boyfriend. It doesn’t sound remotely real, so it’s almost easy to shrug off and accept.

“Uhm, excuse you, I am a deredere. The purest one around! Aside from my adorable boyfriend, of course …” He pauses and his playful demeanour drops when he looks at Keiji, really looks at him, with eyes reminiscent of when he saw Akiko at the festival – almost … Lovestruck.

(So he can compare to an alien plush. Good to know.)

“I know I’ve told you this before and you didn’t look like you believed me back then, but … You’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning.”

Sure he is, with eyes red and puffy from crying and dried tears and snot on his face. But he sounds so sincere he can’t help but want to think he’s saying the truth. However … “You’re one to talk.”

Even aside from him being generally more put-together, Keiji doubts he could ever compare to him. Granted, he’s in love with him so he’s biased, but that’s only on top of what’s already there. ‘Conventionally attractive’ would probably be the right description, but calling him ‘conventional’ in any way misses the point too. He’s much more than that, always has been. Maybe it’s the way he shines like back on that stage. Perhaps the way he carries himself. Or possibly Keiji is just really weak for his soft hair (and the glasses, of course).

“Good point.” Tooru nods approvingly. “You know, back in high school they called me the Great King! If you’re my boyfriend, would that make you a Great King too?”

“Actually, I’d be of the next lower rank, since we’re both male …” Does that make him a king or a prince? How great of a king is a Great King?

“Seriously? You’re a prince then.” That doesn’t sound right. He wants to be a king. Just as he’s about to complain, Tooru adds, “My owl prince … Yes, that’s a good title. You’re my owl prince, and together we’ll rule this land.”

“Who called you that anyway,” he mutters, feeling conflicted. He’d like being of a higher rank than just a prince, but … _My owl prince._

God, he’s weak.

“Enough people,” Tooru answers, which suggests that hardly anyone did. “Now come on, we need to get you a crown! Now that we’re together, that gives me a free pass to buy you everything I want without it being weird.”

“Actually, that’s still fairly weird.”

“It’s _romantic_.” He reaches for Keiji’s hand and pulls him along toward where they exited the main street. They still have a lot to see – it feels strange that they’re not done after everything that transpired. Doesn’t such a thing usually happen at the climax?

Not that he’s complaining. The thought of Tooru being his boyfriend is going to need some time to settle, but until then he’ll gladly take the simplicity that comes with just accepting it for a while.

Hands linked, they carry on.

 

* * *

 

By the time they reach the end of the Market it’s midnight.

The air has cooled down significantly and he’s shivering under the starlight, but it’s okay because he’s leaning against Tooru who has a hand around his waist, holding him close.

Coupled with the warm light of the Market behind them, it feels like he could stay here forever.

“I don’t want to leave,” he thinks out loud, not bothering to hold back what’s on his mind. He’s tired and happy and right now everything is perfect, except for the prices of the yakisoba they ate earlier but why care about food prices when your newly acquired boyfriend is paying anyway?

“Well, the stands all close in half an hour, so …” Tooru lets go of him to move in front of him and pull him into a hug. The smile on his face is playful and seems very certain that their date isn’t over yet, even if they’ve seen everything there is to see here. “How about we head to Karasuno? I’ve got something to show you.”

Keiji raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question him. Why would he? Every second more spent with him is a win in his book.

With the size of the Market though, it takes a while to get back to the car. It’s probably for the best they choose to go around it instead of the same way they came from or else he’d end up buying something way too expensive after all. He saw that really nice scarf that would have looked amazing on Tooru … But once he caught a glimpse of the price, it suddenly wasn’t that nice anymore.

Compared to the inviting atmosphere from earlier, the city seems almost eerie at night. Even though it’s brightly lit and nowhere near quiet, there’s something very off about being here at such a time of day. Tooru doesn’t look like he minds, so he uses the opportunity to cuddle up to him a bit more.

(He finds that it’s extremely easy to get used to his constant touch. Subsequently … He’s done for.)

When they reach the parking lot, Tooru pulls an incredibly disgusted face at the ticket machine once again and Keiji pats his shoulder reassuringly.

“I swear it used to be less last month. How can they keep raising it? It’s terrible. Let’s get out of here before they charge me even more.”

“I could pay half,” he suggests and earns a sceptical look. “It’s not that much if we split it.”

“It’s my car though. Besides, I’m the one taking you out, so I’m paying.”

He shrugs. “Your loss.” If he’s being totally honest, he doesn’t like the idea of not being able to do anything to make it up to him. Next time he sees something that reminds him of Tooru, he’ll buy it and give it to him.

Their drive to the school is quiet and pleasant, with only the radio humming softly in the background as the night scenery passes by them. He spends most of the time looking out of the window, but occasionally sneaks in a glance at the driver’s side, where Tooru is sitting with an ever present content smile on his lips.

His boyfriend.

This is a thing now.

He’ll have to start introducing him as _Oikawa Tooru, my boyfriend_ , and he loves the thought of that.

Karasuno at night is a strange sight as well. The school grounds, normally bustling with students, are abandoned and dead silent, even more so than when he took him to the planetarium back then. This, too, feels wrong – it’s like they’re intruding on something. Then again, Tooru lives here, so it’s probably normal for him.

He doesn’t recognise for a while where they’re headed so he’s a bit surprised when they stop in front of their rehearsal room. The door isn’t locked – that seems unsafe, but who is he to know what they’re going for? – so they can just walk in and turn on the lights.

This room, empty save for the closets at the wall and that beautiful grand piano, doesn’t feel odd at all.

He’s used to it being filled with people and chairs and noise, but seeing it like this is somehow _right_. It’s like in a movie, where the really rich person has a room in their mansion only for their piano, except this isn’t a mansion but a well-used room in a music school with faded stains on the floor that tell all kinds of stories and posters with tips he’s never even noticed before plastered on the walls.

He hears Tooru open the lid of the piano and when he turns around to look at him, he’s waving him over to sit next to him on the stool.

“I’m assuming you have a song to play?” he asks as he does just that. It’s like at the first practice camp, kind of. “Did you write something?”

“Actually, you did.”

He blinks and furrows his eyebrows. What is he talking about? “I’m not following.”

“What, you already forgot about it? You sent it to me on Sunday, remember? The one that was supposed to go out to Bo-kun, or so you said.”

Oh. That one.

“I shortened it a bit and I only have the beginning really done, but I thought … I was thinking about you writing the lyrics, so.” His voice grows quiet with that second half and Keiji can feel his cheeks heat up. _I was thinking about you._ It really shouldn’t surprise him anymore, but it still does.

“You really could have just ignored it.”

“But it was so good!” Tooru whines. “Even though now that I’m here I’m pretty embarrassed. You make me think of really cheesy things, Keiji. Swear you won’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?” It can’t be worse than Owlpaca and their car tires, that’s for sure, and those make him want to cry rather than laugh.

“Just saying. I’ll break up with you if you laugh.”

“That’s the second time you’ve threatened that and we’ve been together for less than a day.”

“Shut it! I’m trying my best here!”

He decides to indulge him, even though he’s adorable when he’s embarrassed. Instead he rests his head on his shoulder and closes his eyes, listening to his breathing until it’s inaudible against the first note.

He barely even remembered what the song he spontaneously played that night sounded like, but with this intro it all comes back to him. Tooru plays it more softly than he did, more carefully, too, as if trying very hard not to make a mistake. It sounds a little bit stilted, but the melody is still beautiful.

Keiji resists the urge to sit up straight when he hears him sing the first word.

“ _It’s been too long, you know / since the last time that I saw the stars. / Clouded skies, muffled by the city lights / I’d almost given up, I’d thought that looking up would just remind me of what could have been._

“ _But then, somehow, you see / came someone that explained to me / that maybe I was searching in the wrong place / and now I’m certain he was right / ‘cause I see constellations in his eyes / like somebody tore the universe apart / and locked the stars inside his heart._ ”

He’s going to explode.

At the Market, Tooru said all those things about how he sees him, but it was easy to hear them and wave them off as sentimental ramble, even if only subconsciously. He believed him, somehow, but the full weight of it hasn’t settled in yet.

That is, until right now.

“ _As the skies are turning red in the summer night / take my hand and hold me close. / It’s easy to say but it’s so hard to understand / so just give me a moment / to stay._ ”

He hears his voice break on the last word and the piano play fades into nothing and Keiji wants to kiss him for a split second until he realises absolutely nothing speaks against doing just that.

He reaches out to touch his cheek and gently turn his head around so he can lean in and kiss him, because he doesn’t have a single word to say to this but he _has_ to let him know somehow.

This is real. This is happening. They’re here, in the middle of the night in the room in which it all began, and Oikawa Tooru is in love with him just as much as Keiji loves him.

He doesn’t understand, but at the same time he does.

Their kiss is gentle but passionate and when they part they’re both out of breath as they stare at each other for a long time.

Then something in his heart blooms up and he can’t help his giggle.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” Tooru exclaims, but Keiji only wraps his arms around him to pull him close.

“I’m not laughing at you,” he says and gets interrupted by another giggle that’s not doing a very good job of convincing him.

“You totally are!”

“I’m not! It’s just …” He takes a deep, shuddering breath that helps him calm down a bit before he continues. “I’m happy.”

“You better be,” he hears him mumble and it sends him right back into laughter, louder this time.

He’s not looking at him, instead his chin is resting on his shoulder and his gaze glides over the posters on the wall without really registering what’s on them anymore. But he doesn’t need to, and he’s afraid that if he does, he’ll truly go insane. “I don’t want to leave,” he whispers without thinking about it.

Tooru hums, a sound so stupidly melodic he has to assume it’s more because of his vocal training than anything else. “Then don’t. I live here, remember? Although I’m not sure if we can both fit on my bed …”

“Let’s go to my place then. Mine is big enough.”

The prospect of sleeping cuddled up with Tooru again is exciting, even more so now that he knows it doesn’t have to be all awkward and stressful. Maybe this time he can face him and fall asleep like that, and without being pained by his own annoying feelings and the uncertainty of whether they’re requited.

(This time around, he won’t need that uncertainty to kill him, he’s pretty sure the intensity of his emotions will do the job just fine.)

“That’s a thirty minute drive!”

“Wouldn’t you have driven me back anyway if it hadn’t been for this?”

The silence he receives makes him think he has a point.

“Fine. Your place it is. But you have to make breakfast!”

That he can do. Or so he hopes, he’s not sure what he has there right now, but if necessary he’ll just improvise. He’s not a terrible cook, at least not as terrible as Terushima.

He lets go of him to move away and nod, smile still stretching his lips involuntarily. Even if he wanted to stop smiling right now, he doubts he would be able to.

Not when they’re like this.

 

* * *

 

“Where’s your bed anyway?” Tooru asks when he hangs up his jacket and looks around the room with a mildly confused look on his face. “I don’t think you have another room, right?”

Instead of answering him, he moves toward the couch and starts turning it into the bed. By now he’s so used to it he thinks if he went home to Tokyo now he’d try the same thing with his actual bed out of habit.

“Oh. Clever.” He does still look kind of sceptical though.

“Don’t worry, it’s safe.”

“What if it just claps back together while we’re in there?” He pokes at the mattress with a frown. “We’d die.”

“That’s not how it works. I thought you watched me build it.”

“Keiji, I don’t trust this thing!”

“Go home then.”

“He said, after wanting me to come here so desperately because he couldn’t bear the thought of being without me …” Tooru reaches out to pull him into a hug that he swiftly dodges in favour of heading for the bathroom. Today – well, mostly yesterday – was wonderful, but also exhausting. He’ll have an easy time falling asleep tonight, boyfriend or no.

Keiji turns around just before opening the door to look at him with as indifferent an expression he can manage when all he really wants is to just fall back into his arms. And also sleep. “You got your toothbrush from your room, right?”

“So cold … Yes, and some fresh clothes for tomorrow. But still!”

Clothes … He could have just taken Keiji’s. They wear the same size after all, and even though he doesn’t permanently want to give up any of his shirts, the thought of Tooru wearing some of them is painfully adorable. Maybe he can get him to do it anyway. That’s what you do as boyfriends, right? Share clothes and all of that …

He has no idea. This is the first time he’s been really serious about a relationship. Tooru didn’t get his first kiss or his first crush, but he sure as hell is taking his first true love.

Speaking of which, when has he started thinking about this in such grandiose terms? If Bokuto heard this, he’d laugh at him for an hour. Terushima would probably give him useless tips he can’t use for anything. Mai … Shouldn’t hear this at all.

Oh god, he has to tell her eventually.

Now that he understands the situation, he can see where she’s coming from. If he’d been in her situation, he might even be the one hostile toward Tooru. That girl must have meant a lot to her, and he can’t deny that he screwed up horribly.

But he still hopes they can make up someday, or at least start just ignoring each other rather than feel nothing but hatred. Although … He doesn’t think Tooru hates her, even if it’s definitely hate from her side. It makes a lot of sense.

He shakes his head and glares at his reflection in the mirror. God, he looks overtired. For some reason, though, there’s something else about him, something good. Perhaps it’s because he’s so tired or because he’s so irrationally happy, but he thinks he looks better than usual. Worthy of Tooru, maybe.

It’s almost two in the morning by the time they settle into bed and even though it’s a lot like the practice camp, it’s also … Not.

This place is his home now, not just some nondescript room in a hotel he’s never been to before. Letting anyone sleep here beside him feels like a big step. It was with Terushima and Mai and now it is with Tooru.

They’re facing each other, sharing a blanket and lying more closely than absolutely necessary. For a moment they just look at each other, and even in the dark he thinks he’s beautiful and he doesn’t deserve him, but eventually he can’t take it anymore and moves in closer to snuggle against him. This, too, is different from the hotel, where Tooru was the one initiating everything, but all that stress and overthinking has dissipated into nothing and been replaced with a distinct sense of belonging.

He feels that way when strong arms close around him and he hears a light snicker in the silence of the night, and he closes his eyes and lets himself be swept away by the warmth that’s so new but still so familiar.

“Keiji?” Tooru whispers.

His own voice isn’t more than a mumble either, though less out of choice and more because he’s overwhelmed and slowly but surely falling asleep. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

Even though he was the one who said it first, now he doesn’t know how to answer.

Instead he just hums in appreciation and when he’s finally pulled into oblivion entirely, it’s repeating in his mind over and over again like a three word lullaby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [whispers] woop there it is


	31. The Whispering Winds of Yesterday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my goal with this title was to make it into something a VOCALOID song might be named. one of those that tell a grandiose story. except this story isn't all that grandiose.
> 
> I'm in kind of a slump right now writing-wise ... it's not really a writer's BLOCK, it's more like "I know what I'm doing but it feels like threading through water" kinda thing? if that makes sense?
> 
> either way this chapter is more of a 'calming down' chapter anyway after the big reveals of the last ones. those are always the ones I have the least to say about. but hey look, Red Lips Cold Heart has finally made an appearance! and we know now (even if you haven't read the Mai side story which I shOULD PROBABLY MENTION is out now - just check my acc for the 3wl side story thingy!) who the hell Mystery Girl is. or at least her first name. but there's only one hq!! character with that name so
> 
> but Bokuto ... Bokuto whatever do I do with you ... I love you why do you continue to suffer why am I so mean to you ... I feel so bad
> 
> next chapter will be so floofy I kid you not it will be ultimate floof it doesn't get floofier
> 
> as a side note, anyone here play Donpisha Match? I recently got an Akaashi 5* and then a Terushima 5* now all I need is a Mai and I have the trio complete. please Mai. come home. I need you

The first thing he thinks when he wakes up is ‘oh shit’.

He doesn’t even really know why he’s thinking it, but he is. His heart is racing in an unknown fear of something he has no idea of what it might be and even though he can’t remember anything past his own name at the moment, he feels like it shouldn’t be. But it is. Because that’s how he works, apparently.

Keiji sits up straight and looks around the room. Yes, this is definitely his apartment, which is slowly but surely getting more filled with stuff. His annoying keyboard is standing at the side still, and for the first time in a while he wonders whether if he had an E-Piano it’d actually fit in here. He’s grown accustomed to his small space, maybe a bit too much so. Right now, it’s doing a pretty good job of calming him down though.

He’s going to need a moment to wake up and gather his thoughts.

“Good morning.”

He shrieks and almost jumps off the bed.

“What the— Tooru?”

Lying next to him the terrible, terrible person in question is having a laughing fit that he feels like suffocating with a pillow, only held back by his confusion. He’s not awake enough to register anything that’s going on here. A little help, please?

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, oh my god,” Tooru says after a moment of laughter, grin still wide on his face. Then he sits up, only to pull him back down so that they’re lying down facing each other.

It takes Keiji a split second still to remember what happened.

The Midsummer Market. Tooru’s story. His confession. Their kiss … Kisses. Plural. There’s been more than one. Because they’re together now. Boyfriends. A couple.

“What time is it?” he asks.

“Oh, I slept great, thanks for asking, how about you?” When Keiji doesn’t dignify that with a response, he pouts. “Just past eleven. AM. I’ve been awake for a while but I didn’t want to get up in case you thought I’d left … Didn’t foresee this though. You’re adorable when you’re sleepy and confused, by the way.”

Eleven is pretty late but he thinks he deserves it for once. Wait, which day is it again? He remembers vividly his stress about the date being on Thursday, so that means today must be Friday …

Friday … He feels like there was something he wanted to do on Friday …

Oh damn.

“My study group will be here at twelve!”

Tooru raises an eyebrow when Keiji hurriedly climbs over him to get off the bed and almost crashes against the couch table in the process. This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all – one glance at his phone reveals ‘just past eleven’ in Tooru terms means ‘eleven twenty’. Forty minutes would normally be enough but those guys have a tendency to be notoriously early and he still needs to eat breakfast and shower and brush his teeth and get dressed, not necessarily in that order.

“Need my help? I can help teach you some stuff!” Tooru calls as he’s about to disappear into the bathroom and he freezes before turning around and shaking his head.

“Mai will be there. I’d love for you to stay but we wouldn’t get anything done if you two were … Being you, especially now that we’re …” _Together._

“I can behave!” he says with the expression of an ill-behaved child.

He wishes there was a way. If Mai wasn’t coming, there probably would be. Tooru, as a second-year, has gone through first year finals before and knows what they’re going to deal with, and he gets good grades. He can imagine him being a good tutor.

Even if he weren’t he’d like to keep him around – actually, he’s very tempted to feign illness and cancel the session so they’ll have the day to themselves. But while he made it through the first round of exams just fine, better than he expected even, finals are going to require him to not slack off. This study group has helped him so far.

Keiji gets ready in record time and when he heads to make breakfast, Tooru occupies the bathroom as well. He expects him to take longer, but he may even be faster than himself, hugging him from behind as he makes something vaguely resembling toast with salmon. He’d have liked to do something more fancy, something traditionally Japanese and big enough for the occasion, but he doesn’t have the time. Or the ingredients.

This all happened so quickly.

He places his hands on Tooru’s that are resting on his stomach and leans back against him a bit, smiling contently for a moment. This way it’s easy to forget he’s in a hurry. Which … Is pretty dangerous.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters when they sit down at the table. Tooru looks up at him, mouth full already, and hums in question. “It’s like I’m throwing you out. I swear that wasn’t my intention.”

“Oh, c’mon, I know that. But you’ve got to tell Mai-chan eventually, you know. Why not right now?” Oh, that absolute fool. Doesn’t he know he’s going to get a book hurled at his face? Somehow, that still sounds like the better option. The one where everything ends in slapstick comedy. He knows it most likely won’t – along with her friend, Mai has been genuinely hurt. They’ll need to talk about it properly, her and Tooru, preferably with that friend being there as well, but as of right now, he can only see her feeling like she’s failed. Suddenly, it’s become clear that all she wanted to do was protect him.

Keiji shakes his head slowly. “Not right now. Not in this atmosphere. And especially not with unrelated people around. I’ll … I’ll talk to her myself next time we’re alone.” He’ll need to make sure she’s not misunderstanding. He thinks she wouldn’t take it as a personal attack, but now that he knows her story, she might feel betrayed. He’s not sure what he’d do in her situation, honestly.

“Well, she’s going to have to live with it,” Tooru says and shrugs before taking another bite and adding, with mouth full, “Or cancel your friendship. Which would suck.”

“She wouldn’t do that.” Of course she wouldn’t. Mai is a good person.

“I know, that’s why I said it. Besides …” He rests his head and smiles at him in a way that makes his heart skip a beat. “Who could ever leave you behind?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” he mutters a few moments too late. “I know what it’s like to be dumped just as well as you.”

“Why are you assuming I get dumped? Nobody can resist me! I dump them, not the other way around!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” He said most of his relationships weren’t serious, so he can definitely imagine someone getting tired of him and breaking up in the most dramatic film-worthy way possible. He’s not particularly mad about it – if they hadn’t, he wouldn’t be sitting here, and he’s not dating him to leave.

“Why do I love you?” Tooru whines and Keiji shoves a piece of his sandwich in his face that he bites down on with a very stubborn expression.

“You tell me.” He wouldn’t mind hearing it again, what he said yesterday, but he’s making it a little too obvious.

“You just want to be flattered!”

“That’s funny, coming from you.”

He receives an offended sound and laughs quietly, and for a moment they just sit there in silence, eating and smiling at each other, and somehow it seems much more meaningful then most of the words they’ve exchanged. They’ve come a long way, he thinks.

Of course, moments like these never last long enough, and before long it’s a time at which he really does need to throw him out if they want their goodbyes to themselves.

He doesn’t want him to leave. Granted, after a while that would probably become an actual problem unless they want to move in together right here and now, but he can’t help but feel this is too hasty for the morning after everything that happened.

But that doesn’t mean they have to be apart for long, right?

They stop outside before the door and he makes an unusually spontaneous decision.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“Depends on how free. I have to study but not for the whole day. I guess I’m free around … Five? Why?” He grins and leans forward in what is probably supposed to be a provocative manner. He’s not doing a very good job though. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yes. I thought that was obvious.”

Seeing the blush appear on his face in real time is one of the funnier things he’s experienced lately. Even though Tooru was the one who suggested it, he’s more taken aback by it than Keiji. It’s adorable. “Oh. Uhm, where?”

“I’m not sure about their times, but I’d like to see a show at the planetarium and I was hoping you’d come along.” It’s not even a lie. Even if Tooru doesn’t want to, he’ll probably go, if only because it actually is very interesting. Having him there is just an added bonus … Though he’d probably still be at least a bit offended if he has the time but doesn’t want to come. Then again, he’s probably seen all of the shows at least twice.

Fortunately, there’s no need to worry. He swears he can see Tooru’s eyes sparkle at the mere mention of the planetarium. “Of course! Let’s go at six, there’s a new one I’ve been wanting to see! I was planning to drag Kuro-chan along but this is so much better.”

“Kuroo-san doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would enjoy this,” he muses. According to his info, he is good at school, and he does work at the student council so he can see him be a bit of a nerd, but … Not a space nerd. A math nerd, maybe. Chemistry? Biology? Or even literature …

“He’s not, that’s why I would have dragged him there. But …” He suddenly reaches out and pulls him closer, and the grin on his face turns triumphant when he sees it’s now Keiji’s turn to blush. “My wonderful owl prince understands me. It’s why I love him.”

“You just answered your own question from a few minutes ago.”

“Shush.” There’s no time for him to make some snarky reaction to that before their lips touch and for a heartbeat he’s incredibly confused until he remembers that of course they’d kiss. They’re together. Duh. Get used to the thought already, Keiji.

He closes his eyes and lets himself get lost in the kiss, and he doesn’t bother keeping track of the time even though he knows he probably should.

It’s when a female voice says “oh” that he realises he made mistake with that.

They break apart and when he turns his head, Mai is standing no three metres away from them, frozen stiff.

Why hello there, worst-case scenario.

“I, uh. I should go. See you tomorrow, love …” In any other situation that last word would have stuck in his mind in an endless loop, but he’s preoccupied right now, so he can’t even do much but weakly wave Tooru goodbye as he leaves, glancing at Mai but he doubts she notices.

“You’re early,” he says when they’re alone.

“Yeah, they’ve been using more buses so I thought I could try how fast their route is …”

“Ah.”

Their pitiful attempt at a conversation ends there and they just stand there staring at the floor.

Eventually, Mai mutters something he doesn’t understand.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Hopefully nothing too bad. Please.

“I said ‘congrats’.” She finally properly looks at him and it’s obvious she’s making an effort to be as positive as possible about this. Unfortunately it’s also very obvious positivity would normally be out of the question. “I sure hope he told you the whole story, and I can’t say I’m okay with it, but I’m happy for you. Or I’m trying to be at least.”

Does he deserve this person? Most likely not.

Yet here she is anyway.

“He did. Thank you. It really means a lot to me.” He hates how his voice doesn’t reflect it, but what else is he supposed to say? Words don’t do it justice.

But Mai understands, because Mai is amazing.

The somewhat sad look on her face turns into something more stubborn when she runs forward and hugs him before looking him straight in the eyes and saying in the most menacing tone known to man, “If he hurts you I’ll kill him.”

“I appreciate it but please don’t do that.”

“Fine, then I’ll just make him wish he was dead.”

“That’s even worse.”

She smiles, but it bears more resemblance to an angry yandere than an actual happy human being. “None of it has to happen if he treats you right.”

“You know, I can defend myself.”

“Oh, I know that, but two pairs of hands are better than one, right?” she sing-songs and now he’s genuinely terrified. Terrified and amazed. “Anyone else here already?”

“No, you were the first.” She nods and walks past him inside his apartment but halts before he can follow.

“Hey, Aka-kun?” Suddenly her voice is much more solemn. Calm, even. When she looks at him over her shoulder, there’s a real smile on her lips, tainted with sadness of days long gone by but ultimately hopeful. “I know I’ve been playing the villain for a while. But I can recognise my defeat, and … I know he makes you happy. And I know he really does love you. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for what he did to Hitoka, and we’ll never be friends, I can tell you that … But I’m done fighting with him. At least until he pulls some garbage and deserves it.”

Keiji is well aware it’s going to be difficult for her. It’d be difficult for him too if their roles were reversed.

But even after everything, she truly is one of the best friends he’s ever had.

 

* * *

 

Mai finding out was one thing.

Telling his other friends is a whole different beast.

Most of the study group is long gone and while his head his pounding from thinking too hard and his hands hurt from playing the violin for too long, he feels much more prepared for the exams. He does not, however, feel prepared to tell Terushima and Bokuto specifically.

Mai has stayed, and she’s sitting on the sofa munching on the snacks that are left from those one of the others brought and possibly being the least helpful person on the planet right now.

Now, he’s not afraid that they might disapprove. He knows they won’t. That’s the problem.

He knows for a fact he’s never hearing the end of this. Terushima in particular is definitely going to laugh at him for taking so long, if his crush was so obvious to him already. And Bokuto will want to know all the details. He’s going to need a way to relay to him that he’d rather keep at least some sense of privacy – what they said at the Market is something he wants to treasure in silence. Hopefully Bokuto has a good day and will catch on quickly, but knowing Keiji’s luck, he probably doesn’t.

“I mean,” Mai says and glances at him. “What’s the worst that could happen? Just text them.”

“You’ve gotten over this surprisingly quickly considering your former attitude,” he states and she shakes her head and reaches for the bowl of gummi bears, only to pout when it turns out to be empty. It’s a very Tooru thing to do. They should be friends.

“Hey, I said what I said. It’s truce. From my side at least. If he provokes me I’ll guarantee for nothing though.”

“That’s fair.” He stares at his phone, wondering if he should send it to the group chat. Futakuchi wouldn’t know, since Futakuchi still isn’t in there – probably because Terushima doesn’t want to rename it – but he’ll figure it out sooner or later.

Or should he wait and tell them in person? Should he just update his social media? How do you announce your relationship in the 21st century? How do you announce your relationship at all?

He does want them to know is the thing. He wants everyone to know that he and Tooru officially belong together now; hiding it would make it seem like he’s ashamed and even if it didn’t, the thought of people not knowing about it or even hitting on Tooru because they aren’t aware of their relationship is annoying to say the least. Back off, hypothetical suitors. He just doesn’t know how to do it while maintaining his sanity or privacy or whatever else the louder ones of his friends would violate.

Although Mai went alright and he would have never guessed that, so maybe he’s thinking too negatively. Maybe they’ll just say ‘congratulations’ and move on with their lives.

(Ah, the beauty of wishful thinking.)

“Or you can just kiss him in front of the entire choir, that’s a lot of people off the list already,” Mai suggests, but immediately pulls a face. “Just warn me beforehand so I can leave.”

That’s … Not that terrible of an idea, actually, but it would risk making his non-choir friends wonder why he didn’t tell them. And …

No, he absolutely has to tell Bokuto right now. Terushima he’ll be fine with on Monday, but Bokuto has to know. He called him immediately after Kuroo kissed him too, and he’s never hidden anything from him, romance-wise or other. It wouldn’t feel right to wait – he has to be the first to know. Well, second, after Mai, but that one wasn’t planned.

And then his mother, because at least she can’t laugh at him face to face.

“Should I call Bokuto-san or text him? Though if I text him he’ll probably just call me anyway.” Not an idea he’s particularly fond of. Maybe he should just come over to his place (and visit Tooru along the way).

“Geez, it’s like you’re confessing to a crime or something. What are you so afraid of?”

“It’s because … He’s pretty enthusiastic, and …” Keiji likes his privacy. But that’s not it, not really.

Bokuto’s approval is important to him, just like Mai’s, actually even more so. If he were to disagree with their relationship, he wouldn’t break up with Tooru, but he would likely start overthinking. Bokuto has a sense for people, even though he thinks he isn’t aware of it – it’s more of a subconscious thing, in that the people Bokuto trusts are usually truly trustworthy. That’s not all there is to it though; they’ve been friends since his first year of high school, and despite everything and everyone, despite Mai and Terushima and despite their greater distance than before, he still considers him his absolutely best friend. Even if he were bad with people, it would still hurt if he had something against their relationship.

He likes Tooru, obviously. They’re friends. He wanted him in their band even, and on that first day of school Keiji saw them together in a nearly empty room. There should be nothing to fear – there _is_ nothing to fear.

He stares at his phone like it could do the job for him.

“Should I leave?” Mai asks softly. There’s a concerned tinge to her voice, much different from the sarcastic tone from before. “I feel like I’d be intruding on something.”

Does he want her to? Probably, but he also fears he wouldn’t actually go through with it if he was alone. “No,” he says. “You’re my impulse control. Make sure I’m not running away, please.”

She takes that literally and plants her hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him down until he’s wondering how on earth such a small girl can genuinely make him feel like she won’t budge if he tries to move. Nametsu Mai may secretly be superhuman. “Sure thing!”

His sceptical look doesn’t move her, so he supposes he’s stuck like this now. Well, it’s better than nothing. She’s watching him intently as he looks for Bokuto’s number in his contacts and remains there when he taps the call button.

Now he’d just appreciate if he hasn’t lost his phone again. That’d be very anticlimactic.

The phone doesn’t even get to the second _beep_ before Bokuto picks up. “Akaashi? Why are you calling me? You never call me. What’s wrong? Do I have to beat someone up? Just give the location, I’ll bring the band and we’ll make them regret it!”

Ah. He’s getting flashbacks of his own reaction when he saw Bokuto’s missing calls at the hotel. Maybe they’re not that different after all.

“No, don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“You sure? You absolutely sure?” His voice is agitated, even more so than usual, as if he’s just about ready to jump through the phone and fight everything in his way. “Because if you’re lying for some reason I’m not buying it!”

“I’m not … Actually …” He sighs and shakes his head to gather his thoughts again. He had sentences planned out in his head, but of course Bokuto blew right through them. It always happens. He should stop planning the unplannable. Mai behind him sounds like she’s holding back laughter and failing miserably, and he attempts to shove her off but it’s pointless. “I’m calling you because I want you to know something that I’d like to have your approval on.”

(That makes it sound like he’s asking his mother for permission to go on a trip with his friends or something. So much for Keiji being the mom friend, huh? This situation is messing with his head.)

“Oh! Is it something good?”

Is it? Hell yes it is. “Yes. Very good. Uhm …” He knows what he wants to say, but his brain still refuses to acknowledge it as reality. He feels like he’s lying about it, taking his wishful thinking too far, and it’s probably going to take a while until it has truly settled in that he isn’t.

Keiji takes a deep breath before he continues. “Tooru and I have started dating.”

There’s an uncharacteristic silence on the other end and he’s half wondering if he said something wrong, but just as he’s about to ask if Bokuto is still there, his friend starts practically shouting into his phone, “Oh, thank _fuck_! Do you know how hard it was to not say anything?! I promised Oikawa I wouldn’t tell you about his _giant_ crush on you and that’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done!”

Oh. Okay.

Breathe, Keiji. Just because Bokuto Koutarou for once in his life managed to keep a secret doesn’t mean the apocalypse is imminent. At least not for now.

But god, what kind of trouble could it have saved them if he’d failed and told him? He could have been together with Tooru months ago. Then again, it would have meant not getting what they had at the Market and he wouldn’t miss that for the world, so he doesn’t mind too much.

“I’m … Assuming you’re okay with it then.”

“Am I okay with it? Am I _okay_ with it?! Of course I’m okay with it! Unless you don’t let me be the best man at your wedding. Then this friendship is over!”

“W-wedding? That’s not— That’s way too early—” Oh god, now he’s blushing, assumingly the colour of an overripe tomato if Mai’s sudden almost silent laughing fit is any indication, and the possibilities of _marrying_ Tooru are swirling around in his head— No way, they’ve been together for less than a day, why is he thinking about this? This isn’t a Disney movie. Stop. Stop this immediately.

“No such thing as too early! Weddings are hard to plan, you know.”

“Stop,” Keiji says in an embarrassingly high pitch, fighting the urge to bury his head in his hands. The only thing holding him back from that is the phone in his hand. “Please.”

“Oh, by the way!” He’s never been so grateful to hear a sudden derange of the topic. Bless Bokuto’s short attention span. “Kiyoko and Tetsu wrote new songs for Owlpaca! You wanna hear? I can send you the samples!”

Hold on, Shimizu? “I thought Kuroo-san was the composer for your band.” He’s never heard about Shimizu composing either, for school or for choir or for anything, really. They’re not particularly close, but compared to what he hears other students talk about, she seems to be more of a covering type.

“Oh, he is, but Kiyoko said she needed to get something off her chest or something. And then Tetsu …” His voice grows quieter at the mention. “I told him I needed time and all, and he said it’s okay but he’s been looking sad. His song sounds sad too. I feel like I screwed up again, no matter what he says.”

“Being honest isn’t screwing up.” So that’s what he meant when he said things were okay now – that they’re not okay but he’s working on it. It sounds like the most sensible thing he could have done.

“Yeah, but now you and Oikawa have figured all that stuff out and I’m still here wondering, you know.” Bokuto sighs, a rare sound for him, and Keiji immediately sits up a bit straighter. Mai makes a questioning sound and he shakes his head in a notion of _I’ll tell you later_ that he doesn’t think comes across as such. “I think I really like him. I just don’t know if I like him enough.”

“You’ll come to the right conclusion. You always do.” He’s being earnest when he says that. Somehow, he’s always figured things out in the end. He doesn’t want to believe that to be different now.

“You’re right. I’m awesome after all!” He sounds like he’s brightened up a bit, but his self-flattery is still weak and strained. “If even you set your love life straight, it should be a piece of cake for me!”

“Excuse me?”

“Gotta go!” Bokuto lies very obviously. “I’m sending you the samples and you tell me what you think of them, ‘kay?”

“Sure,” he answers but before he even finishes the word the phone is already beeping at him and now it’s his turn to sigh. He could have at least said goodbye.

“Since when is calling Bokuto-san an emotional rollercoaster?” Mai asks and finally lets go of him, dropping down on the sofa next to him. “You looked like you went through the five stages of grief.”

“I’m not sure that’s how they work.” His phone buzzes with the message of two new files sent by Bokuto. He’d usually dismiss their samples, as more often than not they turn out something like _Drive to You_ , but he’s curious about Shimizu’s song especially. “He sent me two sample songs, do you want to listen? One of them was written by Shimizu-san, it seems.”

“Oh, of course then,” she says but looks more contemplative than excited.

He hasn’t forgotten Shimizu said she doesn’t particularly like Mai. With how attentive his friend can be, he’s certain she knows that too.

The file names are _test_ and _the whispering winds of yesterday_ respectively and he has absolutely no idea which one was written by whom. Kuroo seems like the kind of person who’d name his files something unimaginative, but Shimizu comes across as someone who can’t think of titles. Bokuto has provided no information either. Or maybe _Test_ is the title? Only one way to find out.

He opens _test_ and is immediately greeted by Shimizu’s quiet voice. That’s a question easily solved then.

“ _Red lips, cold heart, / old life, new start._ ”

It’s followed by a short instrumental break that’s very soft and deep, though that might just be because her bass is prevalent in the piece.

“ _Morning glory blooming gently / quietly before my eyes; / gladiolus wilting slowly / falling in the summer’s lights._ ”

Shimizu seems to have a thing for flower imagery and obscure metaphors woven into lyrics that don’t really make sense upon hearing them the first time, but it still makes for something harmonious, suited to her surprisingly clear soprano. He wonders if she ever had a solo in the choir – her voice seems to be the type that’s best used for support, but could shine in certain songs that are tailored to her like this one.

“ _Sprouting from a concrete jungle / fighting everything thought right. / ‘Aren’t those, of all, the strongest?’ / Words that shimmer in the night._ ”

“It’s so … Melancholic,” Mai mutters, staring at the phone with narrowed eyes, and he finds himself nodding. He wouldn’t necessarily call it sad, but it feels like there’s something Shimizu is working past that she might be missing a little bit.

He wonders if it’s a mystery he’ll ever uncover.

The song goes on like this and once it’s finished, he thinks he may never truly know her.

“She’s so amazing.” Mai smiles and there’s a small blush on her cheeks, but she doesn’t look too happy. “She reminds me of Hitoka.”

Hitoka. The name of her friend.

There’s no doubt she was in love with her. Still is, maybe.

He wants to ask many questions, but none seem appropriate, so he just hums and opens the next song – Kuroo’s.

Unlike Shimizu’s song, this one has an instrumental intro so long he wonders if there’s any text at all. It’s a nice enough melody, calmer than usual, but a bit aggravating when he’s waiting for almost a minute for someone to start singing. Eventually his patience is rewarded though.

“ _Once upon a time I met an owl / who taught me how to sing._ ”

Could you make it any more obviously about Bokuto? Is he being for real? Kuroo might occasionally write some pleasant lyrics, but he thinks he understands now why most of Owlpaca’s songs are … The way they are. _Farewell Fall_ was a one-hit wonder in terms of poetry or something.

The song as a whole is actually interesting though. Kuroo’s singing a sort of fairy tale story that really goes nowhere in the end and doesn’t even have a proper Happily Ever After, but it’s an interesting set-up. The lack of a proper happy ending gives a sad twist to an overall rather cheery song though.

Mai frowns at the phone as the song ends. “What’s wrong with these guys? Isn’t their music supposed to be fun?”

“That’s harsh.” True, but harsh.

“Whatever their problem is, they need to sort it out. Shimizu-san preferably by dating me. Which, I know, is not going to happen, but a girl can dream …”

He appreciates her positivity in the face of despair. Truly enviable.

“You know what we need to do?” she asks and his first thought is that whatever it is she’s about to suggest they should absolutely not do.

“What?” he asks cautiously and braces himself for the worst.

“If they can’t sort their issues out, we have to do it for them.” She smirks and jumps from the sofa to strike a pose not unlike that of an overenthusiastic superhero. “You, me, and Teru-kun. I want to see results by the end of the semester concert at the latest.”

How are they even supposed to do that? He’s already trying to help Bokuto to the best of his ability (which isn’t much but he’s doing his best). The only thing he could try at this point would be to talk to Kuroo.

Although … _Actually_ …

It’s worth a try?

He’s going to need Tooru’s help since he knows Kuroo better, but if he’s spending more time with him now anyway that shouldn’t be too difficult. That’s what boyfriends are for, right? Helping each other out and all.

He can talk about it with him tomorrow at the planetarium, and maybe, just maybe, Mai has a point. Maybe his current approach of ‘let them deal with their own problems’ just isn’t working. It wouldn’t be the first time he has to right Bokuto’s wrongs. And this time it’s not even a wrong.

Keiji looks up at Mai and smiles. “Leave Kuroo-san to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is either the best or the worst idea they ever had. I'm not sure yet.


	32. Bright-Eyed Realist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was originally meant to continue waaaay after where I cut it but that would have made it 8k at the least and I don't want to stray from the status quo too much (also it would have taken much longer) so I decided to split it in half. that means that there's not much of substance in this one and the cut is a bit awkward ... but hey at least it exists? and it's. already pretty damn fluffy. there's gonna be more fluff later I promise
> 
> fluffy chapters are either the fastest or the slowest to write, no in between. case A: I breeze through it like I'm riding a big floofy cloud. case B (this case): I have to stop every two sentences to clutch my chest and shake my head at the cheesy things I'm putting on quasi-paper
> 
> it being unusually cold in the story right now is only due to it being really cold here now. I usually set my stories in fall and winter because it's most inspiring to me and I hate the heat but somehow this one ended up taking place during summer ... how am I supposed to write them cuddling for warmth if it's alreADY WARM;; but the city this place in is a bit higher up and it's not like it's freezing ... and no I have no idea what the name of the city actually is. I might make one up eventually.
> 
> the title of this chapter ... will make sense someday. :3c

It’s cold outside.

Even though it’s summer and the sun hasn’t set yet, he has to wear a light jacket on his way to the Karasuno dorms. Tooru can’t pick him up today, so he decided he’d come over by that new bus Mai mentioned and it really is pretty fast, but his train is still faster.

He’s on time either way, a bit too early even, which gives him some time to stroll around the campus at a leisurely pace. The weather is confusing though; this place is higher up than Fukurodani, so it makes sense it’d be cooler here, but this is a bit extreme. According to the weather station, it’s fifteen degrees, but it feels more like ten in the wind.

(Keiji isn’t complaining though, it’ll give him an excuse to cuddle up to Tooru when they’re on their way. Now that he can do all those sickly sweet affectionate things without having to fear coming across as strange, he finds he can’t get enough of the idea.)

Even though it’s a Saturday, the campus is as busy as on a weekday. Since classes start again on Monday, he supposes it’s not surprising, with everyone wanting to get a last bit of studying and practice in that they procrastinated until now. It makes him glad he knows how to plan his time if nothing else.

He finds himself in the dorm building fifteen minutes early regardless. Hopefully Tooru is done with all the studying he wanted to do today by now or else he’ll have to interrupt him.

“Oh, Akaashi,” he suddenly hears someone say and when he turns around, he sees Sawamura coming out of someone else’s room with a thick folder in his hands and a surprised look on his face. “Nice to see you. Are you looking for Oikawa?”

“Is it so obvious?” When Sawamura laughs, he feels like he won’t have to explain the situation.

Sure enough he shakes his head with a smile, looking like a proud dad or something. “He pretty much ran me and Kuroo over when he saw us yesterday because he couldn’t wait to brag about dating you. At this rate the whole school is going to know by tomorrow.”

Keiji giggles quietly – that sounds like Tooru alright. Maybe there’s no need to tell anyone if he’s going to do that for him without even being asked to. “I’m sorry if he gave you a heart attack.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m happy for you two. And so is Kuroo. I think. He’s been down ever since Bokuto …” He gasps and pulls a face. “You … Do know about that, right?”

“I do. Is Kuroo-san okay?”

Sawamura visibly relaxes in relief. “I don’t know the whole story, but he’s doing his best. Is it true he didn’t actually reject him?”

“If what Bokuto-san told me was correct, then he only said he needed time to sort out his feelings. Which is the truth, not just an attempt to make it easier for Kuroo-san. He’s overwhelmed.” Though not for long if he and Mai have anything to say about it.

“I’m hoping it works out for them. Not that I’m anyone to give relationship advice …” He laughs, a deep, inviting sound. Keiji thinks he’d trust him even if he didn’t know him. “At least Suga says I’m oblivious. And … Everyone else says it too, Suga is just the meanest about it. But I don’t want to hold you off any longer and I actually have to bring these to the student council office, so …”

“See you on Monday then,” he says and Sawamura smiles.

“See you then.”

Now that he’s Oikawa’s boyfriend, he should probably get closer with his best friends too. He already gets along with Sawamura, so the next step would be Kuroo … Which happens to align perfectly with his plans of talking to him about Bokuto. And he really needs to meet that Iwaizumi person, and Tooru’s family, and his friends from high school …

It’s a lot of new people, but he’s looking forward to it.

For now, though, he’s most looking forward to seeing his newly acquired boyfriend and taking him to the planetarium. With how he’s seen his eyes sparkle at the mere mention of it, it’s going to be a challenge actually watching the show and not him.

But it’s always like that, isn’t it? It’s hard to look away.

As soon as he reaches the door and raises his hand to knock, the door is pulled open and Tooru almost walks into him. He can step back in time, but it does scare him a little bit.

“Good timing,” he breathes, heart racing – for once in his life not because of his feelings for him, although he is still the one to blame – and Tooru looks at him for a moment as if trying to process what’s going on.

“Hey … You’re early, I was going to meet you at the main gate.” His confused expression warps into obviously feigned disappointment. “You ruined my surprise!”

“You should have just told me to wait then.”

“Then I’d have ruined my _own_ surprise! Ah well, at least it means we still have a bit of time …” Tooru smiles, and it looks like he’s trying really hard to appear smug and on top of things, but Keiji can see right through it. Anyone could – though it’s still difficult to fathom the thought that the softness in his eyes and the slight blush on his cheeks are his fault. He’s the one making him look this way.

Has it been like this for long but he was so distracted by his overthinking to notice?

“It’s cold outside,” Keiji says and steps closer to him. Even though it’s easier now that he knows his feelings are reciprocated, part of him still feels like he’s being too affectionate.

Thankfully, Tooru doesn’t seem to care. “Let’s wait inside then. They don’t let people in before the show starts anyway, so no need to be early.”

His room is still as small as it was the last time he saw it. He doesn’t know why he expected it to be bigger, but somehow he did. Keiji may not be as smart as he likes to think.

That bed is still annoyingly small too – it makes him feel much better about having him stay at his place after the Market. There’s no way they both fit on that thing, and he absolutely was not ready to let go of him that night.

Tooru’s phone is charging on the bedside table. It’s making him a bit curious as to what his backgrounds are; those things say a lot about a person after all. His own lock screen is currently a cute drawing of a pile of owls Suzumeda shared with him before he left high school, while his home screen … Is still black. He wants to put a photo of Tooru on there, but he’d probably get embarrassed just looking at it. It’s so cheesy.

He wonders if he’s on one of Tooru’s backgrounds. At the same time he doesn’t think he’d survive if he was. It’s probably best if he never finds out.

“I’ve never been to a show in a planetarium,” he says to get his mind off the thought before he can get too flustered by something he doesn’t know exists. “What is it like?”

“You haven’t?” It almost sounds offended, though more at the circumstances preventing it so far. Said circumstances being that he just never had the chance; there was nothing like that around in Fukurodani. “Then I’m not spoiling anything! You’ll like it, I’m sure.”

He sounds so genuine. Keiji is pretty sure he’s right, even if he wasn’t that into it he’d still get to see him excited like this. It’s different from how he looks on stage, more childish enthusiasm than the clean joy of being good at something you like. Both are cute though.

He’s a lucky man, huh.

Tooru narrows his eyes at him from the sofa. “Are you okay? You’re looking at me weird.”

The question takes him so off guard he starts laughing and moves to ruffle Tooru’s hair, earning a quiet shriek. “Stop! It looked so good today!”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t mess it up,” he lies. Admittedly, it does look much cuter now … And it’s sticking up in all sorts of directions it’s not supposed to be sticking up into.

“You are a filthy liar, Keiji,” Tooru whines but shuts up when Keiji presses a soft kiss to his hair.

(It smells like oranges. Not the type of shampoo he would have expected, but sweet nonetheless.)

“When are we leaving?”

“Don’t just ask that so nonchalantly!” He’s adorable when he’s startled. Actually, he seems to always be adorable. It’s still an odd feeling just admitting it, but one he could get used to. “Uh … I want to be in the car in ten minutes, so …” Instead of continuing his sentence and actually making sense of this, he links his hand with Keiji’s and stands up to kiss him gently. It’s sweet and soft and makes him feel like he’s floating, and once again he wonders how he could possibly fall this far. He always assumed things like this were exclusive to cheesy romance novels.

“That’s no answer to my question,” he mutters when they part, only a few centimetres. He can still feel his warm breath on his lips. It’s doing all sorts of things to his heart. If he had the space, he’d probably be clutching his chest right about now.

It’s still difficult to believe that this is going to be permanent now. It’s not just a dream he can wake up from, or a short arrangement. They’re together. _Together_. As Tooru’s poor friends are apparently aware, he thinks, remembering Sawamura. He wonders just how much Tooru talks about him when he isn’t there.

“You know, if this was any other situation I’d ask you to stay here and we could spend the evening on our own instead,” he says, looking at him with a smile that makes Keiji’s heart skip a beat, but it soon falls into something more ordinary. “But I really want to see that show and there’s no way I’m waiting any longer! I don’t know for how long they’ll have it on still. So let’s get moving … Slowly though or we’ll be way too early.”

“You could have said that in the first place.”

“But that’s not _romantic_!” Tooru complains as if what he just said was any more romantic. Note, Oikawa Tooru’s penchant for the dramatic carries over into relationships. If he wasn’t so helplessly in love, he’d probably be annoyed by it, but he is, and he doubts there’s anything his boyfriend could do right now to scare him away. Well, murder would probably do it, but …

He gives him a smile that he hopes doesn’t look ridiculously smitten (judging from the kiss on the cheek he receives in return, he failed) and then they’re off, heading for the parking block in blissful silence, hands intertwined. Some people look at them weird, but he doesn’t mind it at all, only moves in a little closer to drive his point home.

He’d have thought they’d have so many more things to say now, and they do, but those moments of silence he enjoys around him are as comfortable as ever. Maybe he’s still in the post-confession high or maybe it’s just because in comparison, he has to admit the other relationships he’s had so far were rather shallow, but he feels warm and safe like he hardly ever has.

Some voice in his mind, vaguely sounding like his mother, is taunting him, _Careful, don’t melt, with how mushy you are already._ Although he hates admitting it, his subconscious has a point. But frankly he doesn’t think he’d mind it too much.

(Provided someone mops him up and takes him somewhere else in that case, he doesn’t particularly want to stay a puddle on the campus ground for the rest of his life.)

“Speaking of cars,” Tooru says when they arrive at where Oshirun is parked, even though they weren’t talking in the first place and especially not about cars, “have you thought about getting a license?”

He pulls a face at the suggestion. Yes, he probably _should_ , but he’s getting by just fine on public transportation at the moment and getting a license is both costly and time-consuming. And he still needs to get a job so his mother won’t have to keep sending him money – even though it’s not much and she insists that it’s okay, he does feel bad for it.

“Is that a ‘no and don’t remind me of it’ or a ‘yes but still don’t remind me of it’?”

“Both?” His voice sounds about as sure about it as he feels and he can’t help but relax into the seat once he sits down, comforted by the knowledge that this is still the passenger’s seat and he won’t have to try and drive anywhere.

“I don’t mind driving you around, I’m just wondering.” Tooru sends him a curious side-glance as he turns on the engine. “I did it back home during my last stretch of high school, but I can imagine it’d be difficult to fit it in your schedule now.”

“Yes, that’s the problem,” he says too quickly. He wasn’t planning to appear like he’s hiding something, but upon hearing himself speak, it kind of sounds that way.

“Is that so,” the other muses and then they’re silent for a while, with only the radio softly playing a song he doesn’t know.

It’s only when they’re out on the street that he hears him speak again. “Or are you scared of driving?”

“No,” Keiji says instinctively. Because he isn’t. Granted, the idea of being stuck on a crowded street with dozens of other vehicles around him is a bit … Discomforting, and going at high speeds is fine when someone else does it but suddenly a lot more daunting when he’s the one who has to control the car …

Damn it. Tooru has a point. He never thought of it this way, but he could say that, in a way, he is scared of driving. But that has to be normal. It’s menacing to everyone starting out, right?

“You sure?” his boyfriend asks and that alone is proof he knows exactly how he’s feeling. He should have fallen in love with someone who has a harder time reading people. At this moment, he’s fairly certain he’s not displaying any more emotion on his face than usual.

With a defeated sigh, he admits, “I suppose I am. I’m not terrified of it, it just … Sounds like a bad idea. Not that it matters, I can’t afford it right now anyway.” There’s some comfort in that knowledge.

“I could give you some free lessons—”

“Singing lessons maybe.” He trusts his driving, but if he is ever forced to learn how to drive, he’d rather it be done by a professional.

“As if you need those. But … Hold on, I hate this song …” Tooru presses a button on the radio and it switches stations, turns to a song he’s more familiar with. It’s … One he heard in his newly found rhythm game? He wasn’t aware they played those on the radio. “My offer to help you study still stands!”

“I’m good, but thank you.” It’s not a rejection but a statement. He’s doing perfectly fine thanks to their study group. Speaking of which … “You can help me with another thing though. Actually, that one requires your help.”

“Am I supposed to like where this is going or should I be concerned?” Judging by his tone, right now it’s the latter.

“Well, Mai and I …”

“Okay, I’m officially concerned now.”

Keiji punches his shoulder very lightly. “It’s about Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san. We’ve decided to help them sort out their relationship.

“And you need me to talk to Kuro-chan because you don’t know him that well,” Tooru finishes his thought process.

“Yes. Impressive.”

“It wasn’t hard to guess.” Now it’s his turn to sigh, and there’s something melancholic about it. “I want this solved too. Kuro-chan’s all tough on the outside but I’m the one he’s letting his frustrations out on … He’s been crying a lot lately. Trust me, if I knew a way to make it right I would. But there’s not much to do. We can’t make Bo-kun suddenly figure out what he feels for him and until then it’s all up in the air.”

“Maybe we can.” He doesn’t really know how, but if there is a way … “We just have to make him realise what it’d be like without him.”

“What, are you planning to abduct Kuro-chan?”

“If we make Bokuto-san jealous …” he mutters, thinking out loud. “Perhaps there’s a way. Set him up on a date with someone and have Bokuto-san watch. It doesn’t even need to go well, just look that way.”

Tooru clicks his tongue. “Have you always been this cunning? I like it.”

“I’m not cunning, I’m just … Trying to come up with something to speed up the process. They’re both miserable like this, even if they don’t want to show it.”

“Oh, I absolutely agree. But how do you expect this to work?” The song on the radio finishes and a new one starts, one he doesn’t know that feels a bit ominous.

“That’s why I need you. If anyone can convince Kuroo-san to go along with this, knowingly or not, it’s you.”

“And who am I supposed to set him up with? Don’t say myself, nobody’s going to buy that.”

A person immediately pops up in his mind and he can’t help his smug grin. It’s perfect. “Terushima.”

“Teru-chan,” Tooru repeats and cocks his head, as if testing out the thought of it. “He’s with Futa-chan … I think … But nobody outside of choir knows that. He’ll definitely play along, knowing him, and he’s naturally affectionate so he won’t have to fake it.”

“He knows about our plan too, and he’s already said he’d love to play a part in it.” At least that’s what he thinks his last text meant. There were a lot of emoji in there. “Mai and I will make sure Bokuto-san is there when he’s supposed to be. I’m sure that once he sees someone else being with Kuroo-san, he’ll either be jealous or realise he doesn’t feel anything other than friendship.”

For all intents and purposes, it’s a great plan. A bit standard, but standard is standard for a reason. He knows his friend – Bokuto isn’t the type who thinks much about what could be unless he’s in a situation where he has to. He’s admired and envied him for it many times.

“Geez, no wonder I’m dating you. We could take over the world in a week.” The affection in his voice is so clear it makes him blush and bite his lip to stop himself from smiling like a madman.

“So you’ll help us out?” he asks instead and receives a somewhat airy laugh. A beautiful sound.

“Leave it to me, love.”

There it is again, that word, the one he couldn’t properly appreciate last time because Mai was in the way but right now they’re alone, and it’s circulating through his head like a rollercoaster that doesn’t ever stop. _Love_. It’s not a cutesy, overly sugar-sweet pet name like he would have expected. It’s simple and grand and he doesn’t deserve this – at this rate he really will melt into a puddle.

Instead of properly wording that, all that comes out of his mouth is, “We’ve been dating for two days.”

“So?” Tooru asks. Nothing more. Just ‘so’, and the most carefree ‘so’ he’s ever heard, too.

It’s simple, isn’t it? They’re in love. That’s all there is to it. Whether they’ve been together for a few days or many years doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Of course they’ll learn more things about each other over time, things to appreciate and things that may be a little bit annoying, but call him blinded by his emotions – right now he doesn’t think his feelings will ever change. At least not drastically.

“So,” he repeats and smiles to himself.

 

* * *

 

As soon as they’re out of the car, Tooru pulls him toward him and kisses him with surprising ardour. It’s nice but a little bit confusing, so when they part, Keiji doesn’t find it in himself to do more than stare at him with narrowed eyes. The answer to the question written in his eyes is a mere shrug.

“What? I couldn’t do that in the car. Unless you wanted us to crash. Which I didn’t, because again, I really want to see this show.”

“Keep doing this and we’ll miss it,” he says, despite the fact that he absolutely would not mind missing the show for this.

Tooru doesn’t seem to feel the same way though. “Uh, good point. What time is it?”

He glances at his phone. “Five fifty. Do you think they’re open yet?”

“Like I said, they won’t let us in before the show starts … But it can’t hurt to be at the door early. It’s not usually crowded, but let’s not risk getting crappy seats.”

“Isn’t the point of a planetarium that all seats are good seats?”

“You have much to learn,” Tooru says, but it’s obvious from the spring in his step that he’s just very excited for this. With intertwined hands they head for the entrance, where there are a few people waiting already, but not as many as he expected. There’s fifteen at most. Even though this place is a bit lonely between fields and empty stretches of land, he would have thought it to be visited more. Then again, he has nothing to compare it to. Maybe he just vastly overestimated the popularity of planetariums.

Since they have some time, he might as well ask some questions. Tooru did say he wouldn’t spoil him, but surely it can’t hurt to know a little bit about what to expect. “So, what’s the general theme of this show?”

“Space,” his extremely helpful boyfriend says.

Somehow he feels like he won’t get any more out of him.

Now that there are people around, he’s aware of their stares. Them holding hands is apparently enough to warrant attention, and while he’s aching to stand a bit closer to him, maybe lean against him and breathe in his scent, he’s already tempted to let go of his hand. Wanting for people to know that they’re together sounds nice in theory, but their gazes are heavy, judgemental. He can understand it in a way; he doesn’t enjoy seeing other people’s PDA either, small as it may be. But suddenly being the idiot in love changes a lot of things.

Keiji looks at him for support and their eyes meet in a short contemplative moment before he does the exact opposite of what he originally meant to do – he raises their hands to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to the top of Tooru’s hand, not breaking eye contact once, even though the inside of his mind is currently resembling a crashed computer. _Error, file ‘restraint.exe’ not found._

Why did he do that? If they weren’t getting stared at before, now they definitely are.

“Don’t …” Tooru starts but loses track of his sentence by the second word. He blinks at him, clears his throat, and more quietly starts over again, “Don’t kill me before the show starts, Keiji. I paid for the tickets and everything. Feel free to kill me afterward though, I don’t mind if it’s you … Or we could. You know. Keep living a fulfilled life together. But I’m not really picky. Although I do still have to hear you sing with Mai-chan at the concert …”

He nearly cringes at the mere mention of the concert and just like that their moment is lost. That’s one thing he does not want to think about. While he knows he has to go up there again, and he did willingly keep his duet part, so far he’s gotten by only by violently pretending there’s nothing coming up at all.

“Right. The concert,” he forces himself to say and it comes out as strained as expected.

He has been getting better, yes … He has started to understand the song more, and his voice is getting better too. But no amount of being good at something is going to save him if he screws up before he can even show it. He’d rather not repeat the first concert.

“So we’re not talking about it? Fine by me, but you’ll have to do it eventually,” Tooru says in this obnoxiously perceptive tone. He’s right. Of course he’s right. And Keiji hates that he is.

“All in due time.” Normally he’d prefer planning ahead, but this isn’t normally. Jumping into things and taking them as they come … Is this how Terushima feels?

“In other words, you’re procrastinating.” It’s not a question.

He takes the wording as an excuse to hum _Fly me to the Moon_ to himself and not speak about this anymore, and while he’s looking at the very ordinary wall next to them he hears Tooru quietly snort. Even though the conversation took an unpleasant turn, he doesn’t mind so much. After all, if there’s anyone who can take the fear away from him it’s Tooru, just like that night in the lonesome classroom.

Eventually the door to the planetarium finally opens and they are let in, and just like that he finds himself getting practically dragged inside in a hurry. They sit down in the back row of the circularly arranged seats around that machine thing in the middle of the room, in an area where there are hardly any other people, and even though this is an ordinary show with an audience, it reminds him of their first time here when they were completely alone.

Keiji thinks he might want to stay a while once the show is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've probably said this before, but planetariums are the BEST. Keiji's in for a wonderful experience


	33. The Universe In Which You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna cut this off at 4k but it kinda ran 1k longer ... whoops.
> 
> I recently reread the entirety of this story (which took a while. good god) and jotted down all typos and such I could find! I haven't gotten around to fixing them yet, but I hope I'll do it soon, for the ultimately improved experience! or something like that.
> 
> surprise, it's a character most people have probably forgotten about! you didn't think I was done with them, did you? of course I wasn't. that'd be boring.
> 
> I wanted this to be fluffy but now it's just cheesy. there's so much cheese in this chapter in so many different ways ... including a line that has been the leitmotif for this fic ever since it began, and now it's finally made its appearance. can you tell which one?
> 
> the song in this chapter (& also the title) has actually been done for ... what, 10 chapters now? it was supposed to be inserted before the Midsummer Market but that didn't fit the flow of the story anymore so I moved it backwards. and now it's finally shown up. it, too, is very cheesy.
> 
> you know, I've recently been thinking ... I'm writing a few oneshots for this universe, right? (I'm currently on the Bokuroo one!) now I kinda wanna do more with Shirabu, since even though he hasn't personally appeared in the story yet, he has clear-cut motivations and issues that would be interesting to write about. but I don't think a oneshot would be enough ... so I'm contemplating making it a multichapter fic. I mean, that'd only start after 3wl is finished but I really don't want to let this AU end with only one story and Shirabu being in the orchestra would make for a different experience than just continuing the choir thing (although I know jack shit about orchestras so research would be in order rip). also I just really love writing Shirabu. he captures the style I use for most of my originals to a T

He doesn’t know what he expected, but this wasn’t it.

It’s like a documentary in a way, with a pleasant voice explaining things to them that are shown above them, except it feels much more like they’re actually flying through space, in a spaceship perhaps, and the voice is their more experiences colleague looking around with them. In a matter of seconds he has forgotten that he’s sitting in a building and that the sky above them isn’t real, and somewhere inside him, that childish enthusiasm he used to have for space is flaring up again.

It makes him want to be an astronaut.

Keiji is only vaguely aware of Tooru’s hand holding on to his own; he’s too mesmerised by the wonders around them. There’s no cuts between different scenes, only soft transitions by flying to the next place.

One minute they’re on Jupiter, looking up into the whirling clouds without a care in the world, the next they’re watching a star explode in the distance. At one point they’re sucked into a black hole, and it’s a mix of fear and exhilaration as if it was happening to him right now, minus the part where they’d die if that was the case.

He thought he’d watch Tooru most of the time, but he’s utterly captivated – so captivated that the end of the show feels like he’s being woken up from a pleasant dream too early.

They end where they started, on the night sky above them like nothing is out of the ordinary, and he recognises it from the first time they were here. Looks like this was the last show for today.

While most others are leaving, they sit there in silence for a while, just looking at the starts and holding hands.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed until he hears Tooru say, “See? It’s amazing.”

“It is,” Keiji whispers and leans his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “It kind of brought back my childhood. I used to be into space …”

“And you grew out of it? _Inconceivable_. Nobody grows out of space.”

Normally he’d argue with him, but he’s right. Seeing this presentation has made him want to spend hours of his life looking up strange solar systems and unexplainable phenomena again. “I guess you really don’t.”

Tooru sighs and when Keiji looks at him, he has a somewhat melancholic look on his face. “I’d like to stay here forever, but …” He turns his head to him and his expression shifts into something more playful. “We’re not done yet. I still need to show you a certain place.”

“I was the one who invited you. Planning this is my job.” Not that he really minds – although he does have to wonder what the other has in store for him. There’s a lot of places he has yet to see.

“Sorry not sorry, but if it makes you feel better, I have an ulterior motive for bringing you there.” Okay, now he’s worried. What ulterior motive could he have that doesn’t have to do with choir? Upon seeing his sceptical look, Tooru pats his head and stands up from his seat, smug grin still on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it. Uh, I think. If not … Well, I haven’t planned for that, so you have to like it. No choice!”

“If I don’t, you owe me food,” he says impulsively and decides to go with it. He certainly wouldn’t _complain_.

“It’s a deal! Just nothing too expensive, please.” He holds out his hands to him and Keiji raises an eyebrow in a notion of _really?_ , but takes them anyway and lets him pull him out of the seat. Standing up on his own would have been more comfortable, probably, but he’ll take any excuse for holding hands with him. Except he doesn’t need an excuse anymore.

“Don’t worry, I’m not picky.”

“You eat a lot though,” Tooru muses as they leave the planetarium. Going so soon stings a little, but he knows they can come back whenever they want to. Having a boyfriend that can drive is nothing if not convenient. “How do you stay in shape anyway? Are you one of those people with an insane metabolism?”

Well, he supposes he is, at least in some way. It’s not like he never gains weight, but not as quickly as most people. That’s not all there is to it though. “I mostly go running. And do some cardio at home … And of course there’s our choreographies. How about you?” He’s curious, actually. Tooru is definitely working out more than he is, but they’ve never really touched on the topic.

A proud smile appears on his face. “Remember how I told you about the musical group I practiced with last year? Technically I never left, so even though I’m not acting for them right now I can still use their facilities … They have all sorts of things to train with and I don’t have to pay a thing. It’s great stress relief, so I end up there a lot when I have nothing else to do.”

That explains a lot. His body is definitely not that of your average choir singer, but acting in musicals demands fitness above all, so it makes sense. And if his best friend is the sporty type, it’s no surprise it’d rub off on him.

“I don’t think I’d ever have the motivation for that,” Keiji says earnestly. He’s definitely not the kind of person who gets really into such things, and it’s so easy to find distractions.

“Maybe you can come along someday and I’ll motivate you.” The tone in which he says ‘motivate’ is mildly distressing, though he doesn’t know if in a good or a bad way. “Actually we’re on the way to that right now …”

They arrive at Oshirun and somehow, he’s not surprised. Musical means stage. Sometimes even Tooru is easy to read. “You like the spotlight, huh?”

“Of course,” he answers as if it was obvious before sitting down in the car. “Don’t you? I mean, when you’re up on stage, everyone listens. With the snap of a finger you have them under your spell – and then all you need to do is tell your story.”

It sounds so easy when he says it.

“You know, Keiji …” He turns the key and the engine starts up, providing them with some background noise before he turns on the radio. “You have their attention as soon as you step out of the formation. All eyes are on you and Mai-chan. What will you do with that?”

The thought of it is like a kick to the stomach. All eyes are on them. He can’t fail again. All the answers he has for him are similar – _run away. Redirect their attention to only Mai. Make myself invisible again._

After all, he’s always been invisible. In high school he was always hiding behind Bokuto. He had every intention of doing that here as well, until Nekomata decided to pull him out of that shadow and shine a light on him.

“What I said at the Market was all true. And I think you’re close to realising that as well.”

He doesn’t get any more specific than that, only leaves him with something to think about for the rest of the drive, the radio playing on in the background without him even registering what songs are on.

 

* * *

 

Keiji knew that there was a musical theatre in their city, but he never bothered looking for it. Now that he’s actually here, he feels like he should have.

The building they’re parking behind is not unlike the theatre back in Tokyo he and his friends went to a lot in high school. It’s smaller, but not by much, and the back entrance is decorated with paper stars and plastic flowers.

There are hardly any other cars around, the only one is an old-looking red minivan Tooru doesn’t spare a second glance.

Instead they head for the door, a heavy-looking glass one with a ‘no entrance’ sign posted on it that they promptly ignore to open it anyway. It’s not locked, so they must not be completely unwanted, and he’s just going to trust that since Tooru has worked her before, it’s okay, although he does feel a bit like an intruder.

The hallways are empty and the room they eventually arrive in is packed full with costumes, instruments, and notes plastered all over the walls. Nobody is here either, but it sure feels like it’s often used. This must be one of the changing rooms.

“Hold on a second, let me just look for …” Tooru says but never finishes his sentence, so Keiji stands there wondering what exactly it is he’s looking for while he’s pacing through the room, taking a closer look at some things before shaking his head and going elsewhere. This goes on for about four minutes until he finally stops and pulls something small made of metal out of the pocket of a jacket hanging over a chair. “There we go!”

He recognises it as a key when he comes closer and raises and eyebrow at him, earning a smug grin. “We’ll need that to get on the stage. The hall is locked, so …”

“Are you sure this is alright? It didn’t look like we were supposed to be here.” Not that any of it matters, if he knows his boyfriend.

Sure enough, all he gets is a nonchalant wave of the hand.

“Gee, don’t be such a scaredy-cat, Keiji. I’ve been here on my own more times than I can count and they’ve never killed me for it. As long as we don’t break anything, we’re good.” He points at the door, his grin not faltering. “Now let’s go! We don’t have all day.”

Well, he does trust them to not take this place apart, by accident or by design, but that somehow doesn’t do much to ease his doubts, even if Tooru does have a point.

He follows him regardless, and the building appears much bigger from the inside than what it looked like. They walk up a few stairs and then down a few others, maneuvering through twisted hallways that all look the same until finally stopping in front of a door that doesn’t seem special aside from the words written on it in paint – _Grand Stage_.

(What a pompous name. Couldn’t they have just called it ‘Stage’?)

“Alright, let’s hope this is the right key or we’ll have to go back and get the right one,” Tooru muses.

“If that’s the case, I’m waiting here.” No way is he walking that entire route again twice.

 “You’re a terrible boyfriend,” he states but thankfully, the door opens without a problem.

“I’m resourceful,” Keiji argues and looks around. They’re backstage alright, with the dark red curtain drawn. It feels a bit like … Their first concert.

Although he knows he has nothing to fear, that nervousness rises up in his gut once again. It’s a shadow of what it is before an actual performance but it’s similar still, and while normally he wouldn’t mind, this time it only serves as a grim reminder of his failures.

Not long until he stands behind a curtain just like this once again, and that will be for real.

He stares at the curtain as if he could turn it into steel so it will never have to open.

“How do you do it?” he mutters after a while and gets a questioning sound from Tooru. “How do you get up on stage like that even after you failed?”

“Huh …” He puts a hand on Keiji’s shoulder but looks straight ahead, contemplating. “Of course it wasn’t easy. But I thought, ‘How high are the odds that I make the exact same mistake again?’ And working with the musical helped a lot too, even if I overdid it. I felt like I needed to practice really hard so I could be completely certain something like that wouldn’t happen again. Obviously the possibility is always there, but if you’re confident in your abilities, it’s fairly simple … It’s like a foundation of security.”

It sounds like it makes sense. And he has practiced, he has improved, he has shown that he’s better than what he used to be – and yet his head doesn’t want to accept it. “I don’t think I have that,” he whispers to himself.

“That’s why I’m here.” He flinches when he hears him speak – he didn’t think he actually heard it. Tooru finally looks at him and smiles, and there’s a strangely determined look in his eyes. “I’ll be that for you until you make it yourself.”

It sounds grandiose and romantic, but he’s pretty sure he has no idea how to actually do it. Still, it’s admirable that he’s trying. Keiji leans against him, closes his eyes, and breathes – slowly, carefully, until he’s feeling reasonably calm again.

He feels Tooru softly stroke his hair, a feeling that he could get used to but that ends all too soon. “There’s a different reason why I wanted to come here though. Two, actually.”

He steps away to head for … Where exactly? As far as Keiji can tell, he’s about to run into a wall for no particular reason.

It takes him a while to realise he’s looking for a switch, even though the light is on. When he hears a buzzing from above him, he finally figured out that he’s opening the curtain – as was probably obvious for anyone with half a brain. Keiji might be dumber than originally assumed.

He’s about to say something but as soon as he opens his mouth, he sees the audience.

With every second it gets revealed to him more, and though it’s empty he can imagine it vividly, people sitting there expectantly, ready to witness a great performance. The hall is big and fancy, like the ones you see in movies, and all of a sudden he feels a pull toward them, closer to the edge of the stage, that he can’t help but follow.

He stops somewhere in the middle, where the spotlight for a soloist might be if it was turned on.

This doesn’t feel bad.

If he closes his eyes, he can imagine this place being packed, yet silent, expecting the music to start up again and begin the big, dramatic solo of the protagonist in a musical, a protagonist that he is right now, perhaps a knight fighting an ancient dragon who just found out his beloved is alive, or a young boy with dreams bigger than the world, or the anti-hero of a tragedy who was made to fail but refuses to give in to fate.

If Mai was here, she’d urge him to sing _Spica_ with her.

But Mai isn’t here, and for all intents and purposes Tooru isn’t either. He’s alone.

And right now he wouldn’t want it any other way.

When he’s alone he can pretend, can remember. It’s a similar joy to what he once felt when he first stood on the stage, as a second year in junior high at an instrument competition. He had just started learning the piano, but somehow he got second place anyway, and it was the first time someone told him he should consider doing this professionally.

Why did he come to Karasuno?

To agonise over a lost opportunity, mistakes he made out of lack of confidence, whether he belongs here in the first place?

Of course he belongs here. He knew from the beginning it wouldn’t be easy, and just because it turned out to be difficult in ways other than what he expected he’s still a pianist and violinist with skill and experience who got accepted into the most renowned music school in all of Japan. If that wasn’t true, he would have never made it.

He applied because he loves music, and, despite everything, loves showcasing it. He may not like the spotlight as much as people like Tooru or Bokuto, but he has his own drive and motivation.

And if there’s something holding him back then the least he can do is change that.

Well, that’s easier said than done, and whether he can actually do it is written in the stars if anything, but seeing this – standing up on this stage and imagining all the things that he could do if only he dared – makes him want to try.

He turns around to face Tooru, who is standing a few metres away wearing a smile he can’t read or bother to try and decipher right now, and says, voice clear, “There’s something I want to sing.”

It’s an old song he remembers from a musical he watched when he was six and still a favourite of his, though over the years it has kind of fallen from grace in his eyes when he started realising that love songs are usually too cheesy for his taste. Right now it seems highly appropriate though – in the story, it was a turning point of realisation for the protagonists, and although he doesn’t think he’s quite there yet, he wants Tooru to hear what he has to say, even if it’s awkward acapella in an empty hall.

Such things don’t matter.

“Nothing’s holding you back,” Tooru says with a shrug. He silently wonders whether he knows the song or has seen the musical himself; it hasn’t been played for a long time, so if he missed it, he might at least not have seen it live.

If he does, maybe he’ll understand what he means. If he doesn’t … He’ll have to show him.

“ _For every moment that we’ve seen_ ,” he starts, not taking his eyes off him. “ _For every second we’ve spent waiting for our love, / our hearts connecting in a whirlwind of emotion._ ”

The couple in the musical had just understood their mutual feelings for each other. It’s easy to see himself and Tooru in that situation, and suddenly the empty stage isn’t empty at all, rather filled with intricate set pieces, depicting a lonesome alley in the middle of the night, only lit by dim lanterns and the spotlight shining on them.

“ _And even if we lose our minds, / and even if we are not meant to last …_ ” Some similar force to what he felt earlier pulls him toward him and he follows it without resisting, until they’re face to face and the world is silent save for his voice. “ _If I fall, I want to fall into your arms._ ”

He doesn’t know for how many seconds they stand there just looking at each other. All he knows is that when time starts moving again, something has changed.

Keiji breathes out quietly and steps back, just a little, and even though it has no reason to, his heart is thumping loudly against his chest, as if it wanted to break out and fly away.

Tooru is the first one who speaks.

“I hate that I love you right now,” he almost whispers. “If you were any other person, I’d be so mad.”

“I’m not though.” It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but he thinks he understands what he’s saying. Honestly, he’s kind of mad at himself too.

“Good point. You aren’t. Of course you aren’t.” He has that wondrous gaze again, the same one from the practice camp. “I can’t believe you. I mean, I knew you had it in you, but … Damn, you might be better than me.”

That sounds so ridiculous to his ears he nearly starts laughing. “I’m not. I don’t think we’re comparable.” It’s the truth – whether or not he’s ‘better’ than him doesn’t really matter either way. They’re different. Incomparable.

“Anyway, if I hear you say that you don’t have what it takes ever again I’m stealing your duet after all. You could make the whole world listen. Sing to them like you sang to me, and they’ll be begging to hear more.”

Now he might be exaggerating, but even if he is, Keiji doesn’t have the words to answer.

So he only nods.

 

* * *

 

They’ve been sitting in the audience of that hall for a while now. Eventually the staff shooed them from the stage and now they’re watching them build up the set pieces for one of their plays, and it looks like a lot of meticulous work that has to be absolutely perfect, so he doesn’t even dare intervene. Whether it’s always like this or these guys are just overly perfectionist, he cannot tell.

Seeing it from here is much different, but invokes a similar feeling to standing up there, maybe even more so. He wants to go back.

“Geez, I never got around to doing the actual thing that I wanted to do,” Tooru mutters and sticks his tongue out at the stage workers, one of whom sends a peace sign back. “I had the instrumental prepared and everything. It would have been so _cute_.”

He can only assume he’s talking about singing something, perhaps a duet. “You can still do that another time.”

“I guess … But today was perfect. And then you went and ruined it!” There’s no bite in his voice though, so it’s hard to feel like he’s being attacked.

“I have to do that sometimes, since usually it’s you. Balance is important in a relationship.”

“ _Hey!_ What have I ever ruined?”

“Do you want a list? I have it alphabetised.”

Keiji’s first day at choir, and his rational mind, and his sleep schedule … Though the latter only sometimes. Most importantly though he ruined his life, if in the best way possible. This whole proper relationship thing is still so new it feels a bit like a well-oiled machine has suddenly had another cog added to it that changed the entire way it flows.

Or he’s just being overly dramatic. Perhaps his boyfriend is rubbing off on him.

The noise he earns is somewhere between a growl and a vaguely offended grunt. “You’re the worst. I was about to ask you if you still needed a job because I totally could get you one here which is the whole reason I wanted to come here in the first place, but I’m not sure if you deserve it.”

He perks up at the sound of that. “I do. What kind of job?”

Tooru’s pout changes into a self-congratulatory grin. “They’re looking for some more stage helpers who can also do some of the little stuff, or maybe help with the tuning of the instruments since it gets pretty hasty before a show … It’s nothing too big, but it’s a start. And …” He makes a dramatic pause that seems to serve no other purpose than being ominous. “I’m not trying to give you false hope, but I’ve started out doing the same thing here until they recognised my talent and pulled me in for one of their shows. So if that interests you, you maaay want to start small and work your way up.”

“What are their hours?” he asks immediately. Even if that thought process is a bit too optimistic, he wouldn’t mind helping out here at all. It would also mean meeting other people and having to do with a completely different style of presenting music than he’s used to, which can only be helpful in the long run. And he does need money.

“Uh, they’re pretty flexible. You should work that out with the staff. I take it you’re interested?”

“I am.” If this works out, it means a steady income and something more akin to a social life, and all of it ties into the things he’s learning about. He’ll just have to pay attention that he won’t overwork himself, but he’s sure that can be arranged.

“You know, you could have known about this way earlier if you went outside every once in a while.” Part of him wants to wipe that grin off Tooru’s face but he has to admit he kind of has a point. Even though he won’t say that out loud.

“In the end, I heard about it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“That’s just because you have a very thoughtful boyfriend,” he says in that smug tone, “who wants the best for you and also can’t keep paying for all of your food.”

“You never had to do that in the first place.”

“Specifics, Keiji, specifics …”

He snickers to himself and earns a defiant huff, but before he can retort, a deep, strangely familiar voice interrupts their banter.

“Oikawa Tooru.”

Tooru immediately stiffens and it only takes a look to the side to know why – Ushijima Wakatoshi is standing next to the row they’re sitting in, staring at them with the blankest look he has ever seen on anyone’s face.

Keiji assumed he wasn’t here anymore, since the national orchestra is currently on the other side of the country according to his info, but here he is, standing there like something that got ordered and never retrieved.

“My, if it isn’t Ushiwaka-chan. What are you doing here, admitting defeat?” He’s looking at him with an incredibly fake smile and it’s a bit contagious. While Keiji has nothing against Ushijima, in fact he seems to him like a nice enough guy, he does feel tempted to follow along. But his manners get the better of him, so he nods in greeting, though Ushijima doesn’t pay him much attention.

“Shirabu said you were here, so I came.”

Tooru flinches and scrunches his nose. Quietly, he mutters, “How did he even know that? All I did was cancel our practice for today, I never said where I was going to go.”

Keiji wasn’t even aware they were still doing the piano lessons. He just assumed they’d already dropped them somewhere along the line. How admirable to keep it up even when exams are on the near horizon. Either Shirabu is very serious about this piano thing or Tooru just hates not finishing what he started. Probably both.

Ushijima knowing Shirabu is also something that sounds strange to his ears. He distantly remembers Mai mentioning he wants to get into the national orchestra, so maybe they met each other back when they were around? She did say he’d be happy hearing about that. Perhaps that’s why he started playing piano in the first place.

Of course, Keiji can know none of this because he has absolutely nothing to do with him but well, he’s curious.

“I have been looking for you for a while,” Ushijima continues, undeterred, “but it seems you were avoiding me.”

“For a good reason, stupid!” Tooru waves him off, but it doesn’t make any difference other than looking dumb.

“Inukawa would still offer for you to transfer there. It would provide a great opportunity for you as a singer.”

Inukawa? Hold on, _the_ Inukawa?

He knows of Inukawa, of course. If Karasuno is the best general music school in Japan, Inukawa is the best one that focuses solely on vocal schooling. Of course, if you’re good enough of a singer to make Inukawa and are capable of playing an instrument, you’d usually go to Karasuno anyway since it’s bigger and more central and offers more options if you decide to change your path, but if you’re dead-set on going down the singing route? Inukawa is the best you can get.

And they’re _offering_ for Tooru to come there. Not just on an entrance exam basis. They want him there.

“I told you before, I’m not going to Inukawa! I’m not giving up piano! Now leave me alone.”

Ushijima can have no ulterior motive for Tooru going to Inukawa. It doesn’t look like he wants him out of his way and they play completely different instruments. They’ve known each other before this, have been (one-sided?) rivals, and right now it only sounds like he … Wants the best for Tooru.

What an obnoxiously righteous person.

“That is exactly what’s holding you back,” Ushijima says. His voice and expression betray no trace of joking. “You should polish what you’re the best at.”

Tooru stands up and Keiji follows. Staring straight at Ushijima with a look that could kill, he says, voice so cold he’s afraid it will freeze something over, “Come on, Keiji. Let’s leave.”

Their walk back through the building is silent and heavy, and it makes him wonder if petty rivalry is really all there is between those two.

_I’m not giving up piano!_

While he’s definitely competent, he’s always thought that Tooru’s piano play was a bit lacking. Stilted, perhaps. Trying too hard. It doesn’t come with the same effortlessness as his singing, instead he follows the notes too exactly, like he’s afraid to make a mistake. It still sounds beautiful, because of course it does, but it’s in no way comparable.

But it seems to mean a lot to him.

It’s when they’re at the car that Keiji stops walking and pulls on Tooru’s hand to keep him in place as well. He’s not ending this day like this. He won’t let him go with those words on his mind.

“Sorry,” Tooru says, staring at the ground. “He has terrible timing—”

“I think you made the right decision.”                      

He looks up at him with slightly furrowed brows and an open mouth that doesn’t find something to say in return.

“I don’t know what this is all about, but I know this is your place. You belong here.” Truly, he can’t imagine a Karasuno without Oikawa Tooru. Maybe if this was Inukawa, he’d think the same, but it’s not, so he doesn’t. It’s difficult to put it into words, but he knows he has to say something – anything to keep him from worrying. These are the things that eat away at people. If he really didn’t care, he wouldn’t be so affected by Ushijima. “And even if you’re a better singer, you still got admitted into Karasuno for the piano. That should be more than enough to show anyone you have what it takes, so don’t you dare beat yourself up over what he said.”

Tooru blinks at him for a few moments, silence settling over them. If nothing else, he managed to surprise him, huh.

Then, slowly, he says, “That I’d get told that by you of all people …”

“I suppose it’s because I know the feeling.” Better than most, he’d think.

He smiles, and it’s still a little bitter, but genuine. “You know, you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Before he knows it he’s enveloped in a deep hug, one that feels more intimate than even some kisses. “Thank you,” Tooru mutters. “I needed to hear that.”

He’s been supporting Keiji for so long – it’s time he finally does the same.

“If you’re my foundation of security, I want to be yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no, that's not the leitmotif line. that'd be too easy.


	34. Butterfly Rite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the very last update of the year on the very last day of the year? why, it almost seems like it was planned. (it wasn't, it's just laughably good timing)
> 
> after all the sappy love stuff from the last few chapters, now: The Adventures Of Kaash & Teru! well, not really adventures. but they're doing stuff together, 'stuff' being not giving Kuroo much of a choice. not that he particularly minds it, huh.
> 
> I never name him in the chapter, so Word Of God is that Kuroo's cat is named "Kit Kat". which is coincidentally also his nickname & phone name for Kenma. he actually nicknamed Kenma after the cat since they get along so well and he though it'd be funny, even though the cat looks like Kuroo. yes, it's Kuroocat. yknow. that Kuroocat on all the merchandise. except he's not a feline manifestation of Kuroo Tetsurou. or is he??
> 
> it's New Year's Eve as I post this, but I'm sure once you read it it might be the New Year already somewhere in the world, so: Happy New Year! let's take 2018 on. let's fight it. let's punch our way to victory!! as for me, I'll probably spend most of the day distracting my dog because she's scared shitless of everyone already making stuff go boom. I like fireworks too but please leave it for New Year's Day this has been going for three days now and I fear my dog will have a heart attack she's already had some rough stuff happen to her lately don't make it wORSE

Talking to Kuroo, as it turns out, isn’t the hard part of their plan. Finding him is.

He knows he doesn’t live on campus, but that’s pretty much it. Since he can’t ask Bokuto and isn’t sure how far he can trust Shimizu, the only person he knows who has an idea of where his place is is Tooru, and that guy still hasn’t replied to his message. Neither has Kuroo himself for that matter, because of course he hasn’t, that would have been easy.

Keiji and Terushima have been scouring the city for a good two hours now and still haven’t found anyone who can help them. Turns out that even though Kuroo is a well-liked person with plenty of people who consider him a friend, none of them know where he lives. Nobody at Karasuno could help them either. It’s highly suspicious – he might secretly be a supervillain.

His friend is currently sitting next to him on a bench in a small garden, drinking apple juice through a straw with a slightly pissed off face, and honestly, he relates.

“How difficult can it be to find someone as well-known as him?” Keiji asks without expecting an answer. “He’s working on so many things, and yet nobody knows where to look for him.”

Terushima nods, still sucking on his straw. It’s starting to make sounds that suggest he’s finishing his drink, but he doesn’t let up. His resolve to look angry is admirable.

Since he won’t get an answer out of him anyway, he takes to checking his phone for messages, but no luck – either Tooru is asleep in the middle of a perfectly good Sunday or he just hasn’t gotten around to replying yet.

But if they can’t find Kuroo, their entire plan falls apart. Granted, this whole idea may be stupid to begin with … Maybe that’s exactly why it feels so right. He’s talking about this huge misunderstanding after all. Stupid seems like the right way to go.

“Where would he reasonably be? We’ve checked the school, so that’s not it, and according to our intel he hasn’t left the city for the weekend or anything.” He’s thinking out loud more than anything, gathering all the info they’ve amassed so far, which, admittedly, isn’t much. “No luck in the phone book either. If we find his place we can at least wait for him there if he isn’t home, but just running around aimlessly is just wasting our time.”

Terushima finally tosses the cup into a nearby trashcan with commendable precision. “You’re talking a lot today, ‘kaash.”

“I’m frustrated. I talk when I’m frustrated.” At least that’s what he likes to think, the evidence probably points elsewhere but at this moment, he doesn’t care. This is a team effort too, so no internal monologuing, at least not for the important parts.

“If we just wait until tomorrow to meet him at school …”

“My time plan falls apart. It has to be today.” Keiji has made a detailed schedule for this whole thing and he’s not letting anyone destroy it. Meet Kuroo today so that he knows to set up the ‘pretending to be dating Terushima’ charade from the beginning of the week. On Tuesday, Keiji will join them in the cafeteria and watch, and then, depending on Bokuto’s reaction, decide how to proceed. His best friend can be oblivious as all hell, so he’s not counting on him noticing it at first, in which case he’ll need to subtly nudge him into the right way of thinking.

(Half of this plan is courtesy of Mai, but nobody needs to know that.)

“Is it so important that we do this now anyway? Why not wait until after the concert?”

He has a valid point in theory, but considering the situation at hand, it’s naïve. “The longer we let this go on, the worse it’ll get and eventually it’ll be past fixing. Mai was right when she said she wanted to see progress soon.”

Keiji is a man on a mission after all. Operation ‘Save Bokuto And Kuroo’s Love Life’ has only just begun – but they’ll never be able to complete it if fate keeps playing against him like this.

“Hmm … First let’s get ice cream,” Terushima says, and while he doesn’t like the idea of wasting time, the same can’t be said for that of getting ice cream. Maybe they’ll think of something on the way.

There’s an ice cream stand not far away, but it still feels like an eternity. It’s been getting hotter again – it can’t be natural for the weather to be fluctuating like this but there’s nothing he can do about it, he supposes.

“Has your boyfriend answered you yet?”

Keiji checks his phone again and shakes his head. How Terushima found out he and Tooru are together in the first place is one of those mysteries in life he doesn’t quite understand, though. He’d assume Bokuto or Mai told him but he said no to that. Honestly, he shouldn’t even be questioning it anymore. It’s Terushima. He just knows things.

Unfortunately he does not just know Kuroo’s address, because that would have been too easy.

The ice cream stand is one he hasn’t tried out yet, a cute little thing with a blue-and-white striped roof and a handwritten menu on the blackboard in the back, and there’s nobody else here.

“Hey, how can I help— Oh my god! Hi!”

He doesn’t even need to look up at the person behind the counter to know who it is. Sadly, he’s also fully aware that said person is the one he has the least use for right now. “Hello, Bokuto-san.”

It would be so easy to just ask him, but if he does, Bokuto will surely wonder why. For this plan to work, he can’t know anything. Talk about being _so_ close to victory.

“Yo, Bokuto!” Terushima sounds just about as surprised as Keiji feels – though most of his emotions are frustration and annoyance at this point – at the sudden unexpected sight. Bokuto isn’t even wearing a uniform or anything, just a normal t-shirt without anything fancy on it. “Didn’t know you work here!”

“I don’t, I’m just standing in for my sister’s friend’s classmate.” So, a person he barely knows? There’s such a thing as being too nice. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, we’re looking for—”

Keiji shoves his hand in front of Terushima’s mouth, earning a protesting ‘mmmh!’ that he quickly drowns out with, “Shopping.”

Bokuto cocks his head questioningly. “For what?”

“For … A cat.” It’s not that far off. Kuroo has that cat-like smirk down pat.

“Ooh, you’re getting a cat?” Considering the way Bokuto’s eyes sparkle at the suggestions, perhaps this wasn’t his best idea. Now he’ll definitely want to see it.

“Maybe,” he says while trying to come up with something. “It’s … Undecided, because … My apartment might not allow pets, I haven’t really talked to my uncle about that yet. Maybe … I’ll just do a sponsorship for one at the shelter.”

Terushima side-eyes him with a raised eyebrow. “You have that money?”

“Yes,” he lies. It won’t be until next week that he’ll get to speak to the owner of the theatre, but at least he has some sort of perspective now. Still, that doesn’t mean he has money in this very moment.

“Say hi to the cats from me! And send me photos so I can send one to Kuroo.” Bokuto is nearly jumping with excitement in the cart. If this was for real, Keiji would probably be as well – getting a pet is exciting. Too bad it’s but a terrible cover-up. “He loves cats! He has one too.”

“That’s great, we can ask him for tips …” He stops when an idea shoots into his head. This … This could work. “Do you know where he lives? I’ve been trying to contact him for … Student council things, but I can’t reach him. If he has a cat, that’d be two birds with one stone. You know, he could show us some things.”

He’s just improvising his life away but it seems to be working. Bokuto is nodding eagerly, then whisks out his phone and taps the screen with such ferocity he fears he’s going to break it. After a moment of intense typing, he says, “Alright, sent it to you! Pretty sure he’s home, he usually is on Sundays.”

“That’s great”, he says and means it. Looks like luck is with them after all. “Now could we have our ice cream?”

He almost forgot about it, but he didn’t come here just to chat. Bokuto is surprisingly quick at the whole ordeal and his scoops look pretty much perfect. Maybe this is his true calling.

Annoyingly, they don’t get a discount, something about how he’d get yelled at if he gave them one. He supposes it makes sense, but it’s still disappointing. At least it’s very good ice cream, though still not as good as the one back at the practice camp.

Soon after, the stand gets some more visitors, which gives them a convenient excuse to leave. Kuroo’s place is a few train stops away and a bit hidden, up on a small hill with a few little houses. He came past that area when he was first looking around back at the open day last year, but never thought much of it. It’s a remote, peaceful little place with lots of green and a fresh, new look to it. It must be relatively new.

“My grandma lives nearby!” Terushima points out when they leave the station and reach the area. “Number 114. Let’s stop by her place when we’re done!”

“Sure.” Terushima’s grandmother, huh? He knows nothing about his family aside from his mother’s ongoing obsession with healthy food. His friend has only ever been to his place, not the other way around, and though he’s aware he lives close to school, he’s never thought much of it. “Where’s your home?”

“A few streets down here. It’s not that far, but it’s a pain to walk to … And my aunt’s there right now so I’m actually pretty glad we’re doing this today.” He winks and sticks out his tongue in a way that’s probably supposed to be cute. It doesn’t really work, possibly because he knows him.

“Is she that bad?”

“Imagine Professor Umbridge, but younger, always carrying a chihuahua around in a purse, and not evil. Instead she’s just so sickeningly sweet it makes you feel like you’re suffocating. Her perfume doesn’t help, I swear she actually bathes in it.”

Okay, note that down as a person he never wants to meet.

“She’s on my mom’s side like grandma, but grandma’s actually pretty cool for an old person! Really traditional too.” His smile is honestly excited to be seeing her again and it makes Keiji smile in return.

“I’m sure she is.” Even though he doesn’t know how she could have raised a woman as terrible-sounding as his aunt.

“But first!” His friend points at nothing in particular. Maybe he can see something Keiji can’t. Or maybe he just likes to be dramatic. “Operation Bokuroo! Here we go! What’s the house number again?”

“37.” They’re at 31 right now, so only a few more houses.

He wonders if Kuroo lives alone. He doesn’t know if he comes from this area or from somewhere else entirely, or if he lives with his family. Buying an entire house, even a small one like these, as a student seems a bit excessive, but what does he know.

“35, aaand … 37! Right here!”

The house looks just like all the others – white stone walls, a small front yard surrounded by a low wall, and two plants he can’t identify in front of the door. It’s only one story tall, maybe two if you count the attic, and fits in neatly with the row of houses in this street.

Now that he’s here, he thinks he would have expected it to be more … Flashy than this. Kuroo seems like a grounded enough guy, but just living the provincial life in a cute little place like this doesn’t suit him.

A black cat walks past them and jumps onto the wall, eyeing them carefully. It looks a bit like Kuroo, including the strange haircut. How can fur even stand up like this?

“Aw, look, it’s so cute!” Terushima grabs the cat and before Keiji can say anything, he gets clawed in the face and drops it again, hissing in pain. “Mean, but cute! Like Misaki!”

“Don’t blame the cat for your own mistake. Besides, what does Misaki-san have to do with this?”

The cat walks off with its head held high, as if Terushima had hurt its pride. It may look like Kuroo, but its attitude right now reminds him of Tooru.

“Let’s just ring the bell and see if he’s home.” There’s no definitive way to tell, there’s some cars parked by the side of the road but he doesn’t know what Kuroo’s looks like, and at this time of day the lights inside won’t make much difference.

“Alright!” Instead of waiting for further instructions, Terushima is at the door in a split second and presses the doorbell very intensely. Keiji still can’t tell whether he’s taking this seriously or just having a lot of fun. Or both.

The door opens a few moments later and the person in front of them isn’t Kuroo at all, but a girl who has similar eyes. She can’t be older than thirteen. His sister, perhaps?

“We’re not buying a washing machine,” she says and closes the door on them. Terushima, in a surprise display of quick thinking, holds it open just before it can shut entirely though.

“We don’t have a washing machine! We just wanna see Kuroo. Uh, Tetsurou?”

She opens the door again, but her face doesn’t look too convinced. The girl narrows her eyes and he swears he can see her wild black hair puff up a bit. Maybe Kuroo has an affinity for people that emote with their hair, if Bokuto is any indication. “Tettsun isn’t buying a washing machine either.”

“I told you, we don’t have a washing machine—”

“We’re his friends from school,” Keiji intersects before this can get any more out of hand. “We want to talk to him, regarding … His band and all that.”

The girl’s eyes widen in a sudden burst of understanding. “Oooh! Is this about the owl guy Tettsun’s in love with?”

He doesn’t have time to reply to that – Kuroo rushes in from behind her, picks her up like a cat, and places her behind him, not without protests. He whispers something to her before turning back around with an expression that hangs somewhere between apologetic and mildly panicked. “Oh, uh, hi, didn’t expect to see you guys here … Pay Mimori no mind! She says stupid things sometimes …”

“We know about your thing with Bokuto, that’s why we’re here,” Terushima says gleefully, causing Kuroo to gape at them.

See, this is why he wanted to meet him personally. For all he knows, Keiji and his friends have no idea about how this all turned out. He’s knows that Kuroo knows that they know about the kiss … Which makes this situation extremely convoluted … But for all intents and purposes, it should be a closed chapter to them. Talking all that out via text would have been annoying.

“Oh. Do you. Well … Come inside then?”

Poor Kuroo, he’s clearly lost. Keiji would be lying if he said he doesn’t find it highly amusing.

The house is smaller from the inside than it looked, or it might just be the furniture taking up a lot of space. Now it really does look like a place Kuroo would live in; there’s a framed poster of Cassiopeia hanging on the wall, a cat tower in the corner of the living room area and a guitar in the other, and plenty of records and scraps of paper lying around. It’s decorated quite nicely and has a homey feel to it, kind of like his own apartment, although it may be a bit crowded for his liking.

Mimori is still standing by the side and has reverted back to a suspicious expression that he feels all the way to the couch even without looking at her. He has a distinct feeling she’ll grow up to be very scary someday.

“Your sister?” he asks and Kuroo raises his eyebrows until Keiji points at the girl.

“Ah, you mean Mimori. Nah, she’s my cousin. She comes over on weekends sometimes.”

“So you actually have this house to yourself? That’s so _cool_!” Terushima is looking around in awe, occasionally grinning at them with wide eyes and a nudge of the head toward something he finds interesting.

Kuroo smirks and now definitely looks like that cat. “Yeah. Pretty nice, huh? Rent’s not that expensive and it’s close to school.”

Come to think of it, if Terushima’s grandmother’s house is here too, it’s interesting they’ve never run into each other. Kuroo must have been living here for a while now.

“Ooooh! That guitar!” His friend climbs onto the sofa, only to lean over the backrest and lean out to the instrument. He doesn’t know much about guitars, but it’s a pretty one if nothing else – a bright red, with a somewhat sharp shape and black paw stickers on it. This isn’t the one he’s seen him use at the concerts he’s been to, so he wonders if it’s just for show.

“Don’t touch it! It’s not for playing.” Terushima pouts at him but follows his orders and falls back into the seat.

“What fun is a guitar you can’t even play?”

Kuroo sighs and shakes his head with a somewhat melancholic smile. “It was the first one I ever owned. Sounds like garbage nowadays, I had no idea what to do with it at the time, but someday I’ll get it refurbished and play it again. Until then, don’t make it worse or it’ll fall apart.”

Keiji has to smile a little at his nostalgia. When he had to part with his first violin he actually cried. He’s not usually one to be too emotional over inanimate objects, but there’s some that just wiggle their way into your heart, especially if they’ve been with you for years, and instruments are a special case anyway. Terushima, who doesn’t play any, wouldn’t know, but knowing him he understands it nonetheless.

But the emotions they came here for are of a different sort. He glances at Mimori, who has had enough of standing around and disappears behind a door instead, before speaking. “So, about you and Bokuto-san.”

Kuroo immediately tenses up at the mere mention and it feels like their fun little moment has been shattered. While he knows Bokuto’s side of the ordeal, this is the first time he’s seeing Kuroo’s, and it’s painfully obvious how hard this is hitting him.

He and Tooru are lucky people, he thinks.

“Has Tooru already told you about some sort of plan?” He should have, because that is his role in this, but he doesn’t know how vague he was about it. All they need is for Kuroo to be open to the suggestion.

“He said something …” Judging from the wary tone of his voice, it didn’t really help. “Something about how I should listen to you in matters of Kou. I just thought he meant that you understand him better than I do.”

Well, that’s better than nothing, he supposes.

“No, no, no,” Terushima says and leans toward Kuroo with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “We have a foolproof plan to make Bokuto fall in love with you.”

“That’s not what it is. Don’t give him false hope.” But it is what he hopes it’ll turn out to be.

“Aw, c’mon, it’s close! Explain it, ‘kaash!”

Why does he have to explain it? Did Terushima forget everything about it already?

Kuroo looks reasonably confused until Keiji lays out the plan and finds him nodding along occasionally. Eventually, he says, “That’s so stupid it might just work.”

“It’s not that stupid,” Terushima protests, but Keiji waves him off.

“It’s kind of stupid. But I have a good feeling about it.”

He hears a soft meow near the entrance and when he looks where it came from, the Kuroo-looking cat is coming in from the cat door. He wonders if Kuroo chose the cat because it looks like him or if it’s mere coincidence, and can’t decide which one would be funnier. When the cat raises its head to look at him, he waves at it.

“So, to summarise, you want me to fake-date Terushima to make Kou jealous,” its owner says, paying it no mind.

“Precisely.” The cat walks toward them and jumps on the sofa, where Terushima immediately reaches for it until Keiji slaps his hands away. No more getting scratched on his watch. “He needs to sort out his feelings for you.”

Kuroo furrows his eyebrows and stares at him suspiciously. Is this what a math formula feels like when someone tries to solve it? “Why are you helping me? I don’t trust you.”

“Because Bokuto-san is my best friend and I hate seeing him suffer.” Besides, why wouldn’t he trust him? He considers himself fairly trustworthy.

“Yeah, I just wanna see both of you happy,” Terushima, who appears marginally less trustworthy, adds. “And everyone else thinks the same way.”

“Tooru is feeling bad about it too. And it’ll be better for the band to have this cleared up. Or do you want to sound bad for eternity?” Is this what they call guilt-tripping? Hey, as long as it’s getting them somewhere …

Kuroo is catching on quickly though. “You’re guilt-tripping me into this.”

“Uh, depends.” Terushima reaches out to pet the cat, but it jumps away with a hiss. He’s not winning any points with this one. “Is it working?”

Silence is draped over the room for a while, eventually broken by Kuroo. “Yes. What are the details?”

 

* * *

 

They settle on a rough timeframe – somewhere around next week and the one after that – but Keiji will have to talk to Bokuto first to make sure he can actually show up. Despite their valiant efforts, Kuroo shoos them out of his house as soon as they’re done. Whether he’s embarrassed about his feelings or mad at himself for letting them talk him into this like they did will remain a mystery for the ages though.

“I feel so unwelcome,” Terushima whines and pulls on Keiji’s arm once they’re out on the street again. “Let’s head for my grandma’s house before I die of loneliness.”

“You won’t, I’m right here,” he argues, but his friend pays him no mind. He supposes it doesn’t matter anyway, since they’ll stop by her house no matter what. Terushima called her traditional, but in which way he doesn’t know – it’ll be nice to meet her and find out if nothing else.

It’s as his friend said, she doesn’t live that far away, but it’s still a few minutes of walking until they reach her house. It’s down the very same street and doesn’t look much different from the outside. The window to what he presumes is the kitchen is open and a delicious smell is coming out, and there’s a bonsai sitting on the windowsill. Even though there’s not much about it that’s special, it feels inviting.

Terushima doesn’t bother ringing the doorbell, instead he knocks on the window and an old woman appears before going away again. Shortly after, the door opens.

“Yuuji, what a nice surprise!” She’s short, has her white hair in a tight bun, and looks a bit like those friendly old ladies you’d see in movies, the ones that invite you inside for cookies even if they don’t know you.

Keiji is close with his extended family and yet he’s never met his grandparents, so he doesn’t know what it’s like for Terushima, but judging by how quickly he runs to hug her, she must be very important to him. “Grandma! It’s been too long, how are you?”

She laughs, which doesn’t help her cliché old lady image. You could put this person into a slice of life anime and she wouldn’t feel out of place. “It’s been two weeks, dear. But I’ve missed you too. And who did you bring along?”

Keiji bows in greeting and hopes his thoughts weren’t too obvious. “I’m Akaashi Keiji, his friend from Karasuno. It’s nice to meet you.”

“No need to be so formal, Keiji-kun. Yuuji’s friends are always welcome here. Ah, and I’m Haruyama Inori – it’s nice to meet you as well.” Her smile doesn’t change a bit, and honestly, she only needs round glasses to make the image complete. She’s already wearing an apron, too.

Haruyama guides them inside, which couldn’t be more different from Kuroo’s house. Now he realises what Terushima meant with ‘traditional’ – even though the houses are more modern, it reminds him of older buildings with calligraphy on the walls and tatami flooring. Did she put that in herself or did someone help her? Either way it’s impressive. She must own this house or else it probably wouldn’t have been allowed.

There’s not much technology around, she doesn’t even have a television, only a phone that has seen better days. That seems to be taking it a little far, but if she can live like this, he’s not one to judge.

To his surprise, he finds a violin in one of the shelves as well. He would have expected a koto or a shamisen, but not your ordinary everyday violin. His staring must be obvious, because she laughs a little and asks, “Do you play?”

“I do. Violin and piano … And flute, but not for school.”

“Don’t forget choir! ‘kaash here’s a great singer too! He and Mai have a duet!” Terushima sounds as proud of him as he usually does of himself for his solo in _HEART_ _↑_ _BEAT_. “Y’know, the Mai that was here last month.”

“The very nice girl, I remember her.” Haruyama steps toward the violin and runs her hand over it. “What kind of music do you play?”

“I don’t really have a favoured genre, but I suppose I like classical things.” He’s been playing the piano much more recently, but he always felt he has more fun trying out different things on the violin. His piano style is relatively settled, somewhere between classic and newer, quieter compositions; the violin doesn’t really have that. One time in junior high he tried rewriting some Vocaloid songs for it and broke a string – nowadays he could play his rendition of _Happy Synthesizer_ in his sleep.

“Is that so … Hmm, this might be of interest to you then.”

He doesn’t dare ask what she’s talking about, only watches her get a folder from a drawer and flip through it, her eyes darting over the pages like she’s read them many times. Finally she stops and takes out a few, then hands them to him with a smile.

He’s surprised to find it’s sheet music, and of a song he’s never heard of. It’s titled _Butterfly Rite_ and on first sight, it seems like a quick, energetic piece that goes in directions you wouldn’t expect but make perfect sense in context.

“I wrote this many years ago, back when I was studying at Karasuno.” Keiji looks up at her in surprise and she snickers. “I graduated with a near-perfect score, you know. But shortly after that, I injured my hand and was never able to play like I used to. Nobody I know plays the violin, at least not well enough for this, but if you want to give it a try, I’d be very happy. I’m proud of it and think it should live on. “

“It certainly looks like a challenging piece.” But the way he imagines it sound is clear and bright, unusual and demanding from both its player and the audience. If played correctly, it would surely sound amazing.

And of course, there’s finals coming up. In the first semester, his practical exams are simply to play a song approved by the professor – as to not make it too easy – and he was intending to look for something for the violin tomorrow anyway. This would surely make the cut … If he can master it in this short time span, that is.

But he trusts his abilities with his instruments more than most other things.

“I’ll gladly try it. Thank you.”

This is Haruyama’s legacy in a way, and she’s entrusted it to someone she barely knows. Even though she’s mellower and more remote, her spontaneity does make him see how she’s related to Terushima. It’s nice.

“That’s so cool, ‘kaash! You better do it justice!”

“I’ll do my very best.”

Between this, everything that happened yesterday, his relationship with Tooru and Mai’s approval of it, and the progress he’s making in the Bokuroo dilemma, it feels like slowly but surely things are falling into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes, a sense of belonging. would be a shame if someone were to attack it ...


	35. A name for love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first update of the new year, hope you all got into it alright! o/
> 
> Ushiwaka isn't much of a mystery, I think. he's so straightforward ... that's why I like him. and I mean, he's not necessarily WRONG, he just has an odd view on things. hm. the reason why he was let into the library was ... that nobody checked. it may officially say "nobody who isn't studying or teaching at Karasuno" but do you want to ID every single person or what. Ushiwaka would have normally stood out but the person currently at the counter is really really tired okay this is a boring job and they'd rather be home
> 
> the Agenda I'm pushing with this chapter is that Watari looks like a penguin. idk what it is but he totally reminds me of a penguin. Watari Penguinji. also I'm dead set on school gossip Watari, this boy KNOWS. what does he know? all. poor Yahaba ...
> 
> the big band posters are based on our big band at school. every semester they'd hold a big concert, but just by looking at their posters, you wouldn't know. the date and who the heck was playing WAS written on it but it was always pretty small. since it was a school tradition though, everyone knew what they were talking about. this one's similar, except they trust in everyone's ability to follow the online news since it's written on the website, they just wanna grab their attention.
> 
> the reason for the ballroom dancing club is ... nothing but me recently finishing the Ballroom e Youkoso anime lol. Mako is my daughter and I would die for her.

These past few days, life has been pretty good.

Keiji got together with the person he loves, got a shot at a possible job, made progress in the Bokuroo dilemma, and found a song to perform for violin finals. Choir yesterday has gone over without much drama as well, they didn’t get to practice _Spica_ at all so he had no chance to take that whole foundation of security thing to heart quite yet but he’s planning to, school is going well, and he just got praise for one of his essays from the professor. Mai is in a good mood and they had a very rewarding spontaneous class presentation together that ended in them snatching some extra credit, and overall, he’s been feeling better than ever.

So why is it that today of all days he runs into Ushijima again?

All he wanted to do was return a book to the library. He didn’t even plan on staying for long. Frankly, he doesn’t know what Ushijima is doing here in the first place, as the library is off-limits to anyone who isn’t working or studying at Karasuno, so by all accounts he shouldn’t be allowed in. But there he is, sitting at a desk, reading a big dark green book.

It’s a good thing Tooru isn’t here, as this already reminds him too much of the last time they met. He considers Ushijima a decent enough person from what he knows about him but the way he spoke to Tooru so condescendingly – without malice, just stating what he thinks to be the facts – rubs him the wrong way still, and gone is his good mood.

He shouldn’t be interacting with him right now. All he has to do is speak to the librarian at the counter, hand over his books, and leave. It’s lunch break and he has better things to do than stand here staring.

But somehow he can’t look away.

There’s so many things he wants to know. His relationship with Tooru, with Shirabu even, and why he wants for him to go to Inukawa so desperately that he’d hunt him down just to say it. A stupid fight can’t possibly be all there is to it. And while he could just ask Tooru, he thinks he wants to hear the other side of the story too, and this might be one of his only chances.

Ushijima hasn’t noticed him yet, focused on his book. He’s garnering some confused looks from people walking by, but nobody has the heart to go up and talk to him, which means Keiji will definitely attract attention if he does.

But if he leaves now, he’ll be thinking about it for the rest of the day, possibly the week, and he can’t have that right now.

With a sigh, he heads for the desk.

Ushijima looks up at him and says, in a low voice befitting of the library, “Hello, Akaashi Keiji.”

Why the full name? At least he remembered it, he supposes. “Hello. Can I talk to you?”

He gestures to the empty chair across him and Keiji takes a seat. Now that he’s here, he has no idea what to say though. This is exactly why he shouldn’t make spontaneous decisions.

“What is it that you want to talk about?” He looks genuinely curious, which makes it a bit easier, but he’s also still on the fence on whether he likes him or not, which in returns makes it more difficult. In the end, it’s just as daunting as it was originally.

“You mentioned something about Inukawa when Tooru and I ran into you a few days ago,” he starts, trying to remember the details of their short conversation. “And that it was offering for Tooru to come there. What was that about?”

“Ah, that.” Ushijima puts aside his book and looks at him with the intensity of a professional sports player. He supposes those things happen to people who have to hurl a contrabass around all the time, or maybe it’s just an Ushijima thing. “You should know it makes sense.”

“I have no idea what this is all about,” he says earnestly, though he can follow his thought process somewhat. “Why do you want him to go there anyway? It seemed important to you.”

“Because staying at Karasuno means he is wasting his potential.” The answer comes quickly without hesitation, as if he’s said this a million times, and Keiji feels the sudden urge flare up to just stand up and leave. Oikawa Tooru, wasting his potential? At _Karasuno_ of all things? That’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

But he’s a nice person who values being polite, so instead he stares back at him blankly and answers, “I disagree. He’s clearly doing great here.”

“He could be better. He is derailing his true talent by paying more attention to something he is not suited for.”

“That’s what you think,” he shoots back quietly, unable to take the condemnation out of his voice entirely. While he gets where he’s coming from, this isn’t a choice Ushijima has any business making. “Tooru evidently doesn’t agree. Who are you to tell him what to do when you don’t even know what he’s shooting for?”

“Do you?”

The question takes him by surprise – and he has no answer to it. To be honest, Keiji isn’t even sure of what he wants to do yet himself. Tooru’s aspirations … What _is_ he shooting for? In the end, he supposes it makes no difference. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that he chose his path and you should leave him alone, whether you approve or not.”

Ushijima looks at him with a completely stoic expression he can’t read for the life of him. “You were the one who asked. I answered.”

He … Has no retort to that, because he’s right. Keiji did ask, and Ushijima did answer. He disagrees with him, but he got what he wanted, not more and not less.

“I still don’t understand,” he says instead, “why you care so much. You’re a contrabassist, not a singer. What Tooru is doing has nothing to do with you.”

“That is true.” Another answer that throws him for a loop. He expected him to say something to prove the opposite, but here he is agreeing with him. He’s certainly an interesting person, this Ushijima Wakatoshi. In another timeline, they may have been able to become friends. “But I have seen his progress from junior high school onward, and I want him to succeed.”

Well, they’re at least on the same page about that, even if their viewpoints are completely different. There’s no malice whatsoever in Ushijima’s words, and while he doesn’t know how exactly they relate to each other, it’s easy to tell he cares about Tooru. Even so, his point still stands. “If that’s what you believe, then tell him that instead of that he should go to some school he doesn’t want to go to.”

“I have, several times.”

No, this shouldn’t surprise him. What did he think was going to happen? Keiji may be Tooru’s boyfriend now, but he hasn’t known him for as long as Ushijima has, and in this situation he’s nothing but an outsider who wants to make sense of it all.

It’s impossibly frustrating.

“I’m sorry, I have to leave.” He stands up and Ushijima nods at him before he turns on his heel and leaves the library with even more questions than before circling through his mind.

 

* * *

 

Keiji fully intended to go to the cafeteria, get something to eat, and complain to Bokuto about what just happened, but he stops along the way when he sees Tooru hanging up a quite ridiculous amount of posters in the empty sitting area he passes through. The pile next to him almost goes up to his waist and looks like it’s going to fall over any minute now—

And exactly that happens as soon as he considers the possibility. Instinctively he hurries toward it to prevent it from making too much of a mess but he’s too slow and can only watch as a couple hundred posters spread all over the floor.

“Shit—” Tooru knees down to gather it, making the poster he was about to hang up on the wall fall down in the process and hit him right on the head before tumbling to the floor. Tooru turns around to look at it for a moment before muttering something to himself that sounds vaguely like, “I’m so disappointed in you.”

“Hold on, I’ll help you.” Who ordered these many posters? He’s pretty sure they don’t have enough space in this whole building to hang them all up unless they want to get called out for vandalising.

“Keiji, hey,” he hears him say and it’s so soft it makes him feel like joining the posters in their adventure of lying on the floor and being a nuisance. Said softness immediately falls away when he seems to realise what situation they’re in right now. “Uh, thanks. The big band made me put these up but they were _supposed_ to have people help me … All of whom are mysteriously sick today.”

These are big band posters? All he sees on them are a drawing of a crow, orange on black, and the word _Fly_. There’s not even a date or a place written anywhere. Doesn’t seem like the soundest strategy of attracting an audience. “What do you have to do with the big band anyway?”

“Nothing, but there’s this really scary senpai I don’t wanna anger … They’re very convincing. I just walked past the wrong room at the wrong time.” He sounds positively terrified by the memory, so he decides not to dig any deeper. Wouldn’t want him to pass out from fear.

“Either way, I doubt you’ll get all of these done today … Or ever.” He’s starting to amass quite a few himself that he piles neatly on top of each other – now hopefully they won’t fall over again or they’ll have to start over. Despite his progress, the floor is still full, and he silently thanks fate for them being alone right now or someone would definitely slip on a poster if they had to walk past.

Tooru rolls one of them up and lightly hits Keiji’s head with it. “Don’t underestimate me! Back in high school, I did the volleyball club’s PR all the time. I just had my fan club help me out.”

“Your fan club,” he repeats, unimpressed.

“Well, yeah! Girls love me!”

“How come there’s no such thing here then?” He can’t decide if he’d prefer it to be made up or true. Both options are kind of funny.

“Uh …” Tooru runs a hand through his hair and looks at the floor with a slightly embarrassed smile. “Turns out people here really don’t care about that sort of thing … They’re all preoccupied. B-but I do still have girls ask for my autograph and photos and stuff all the time at concerts!”

“Sure, just like last time.” Many things happened on that concert, those weren’t part of it.

“That was a tough crowd, and I didn’t have a solo. Besides, I was busy, as you are well aware!” His flailing around almost knocks over Keiji’s poster stack, but he can move it to the side just quickly enough to save it and start piling things on it again.

“If that’s what you want to believe.”

“Leave if you only came here to make fun of me!” He freezes in motion and frowns at the poster in front of him. “Why are you here anyway? I thought you were eating in the cafeteria with Owlpaca and the others.”

“Oh, I was at the library. I ran into someone, so it took a bit longer than planned.” Should he tell him about Ushijima? Now that he’s here, it feels like a blatant invasion of privacy, but he doubts he can be blamed for being curious. Perhaps he should have talked to Tooru first though, only to make sure.

“Someone I know?” He’s not looking at him, hard at work at fixing this mess that still doesn’t seem to get any tidier.

“You … Could say so.” No, hiding it from him would be wrong too. He trusts him after all – he only hopes it won’t stir up any unwanted memories. “It was Ushijima-san.”

“Ushiwaka-chan? What’s he doing here?” Tooru asks without any change in his tone. If anything, he seems indifferent, much unlike their last meeting.

Is he feigning it to not get into the topic too much or does he really not care?

“I’m not sure, but he was reading something.” He grabs another poster that turns out to have a tear in it, so he looks at it for a moment, contemplating what to do with it, before starting a new pile. “I asked him … A few things. About you, and Inukawa …”

“Oh, that.” Still no signs of unease. When he looks at him from the side, he sees him fold a poster into a paper plane. “What’d he say?”

“He thinks you’re wasting your potential.” Even saying it out loud feels dirty. “That he wants to see you succeed, and that Inukawa is the better place for you because you can focus on only your singing there. I disagree, but you should know that.”

Tooru throws the paper plane and they watch it fly through the room for a few second before it loses momentum and drops to the ground. He sticks out his tongue at it before returning to work. “Glad we’re on the same page then. I’m not really worried about it anymore, to be honest.”

“You’re not?” On Saturday it seemed like it hit him pretty hard, but he doesn’t appear to be lying.

He smiles to himself and shakes his head. “Nope. I know you believe in me, just like you said. And despite what Ushiwaka-chan thinks, I’m not just playing piano for myself or because I’m stubborn or something.”

Keiji stares at him for a while, trying to deduce his expression. It’s serene, almost melancholic in a way, like there’s something far more personal about the instrument than just the connection he has made over the years. He himself plays it because he likes it, and he’s attached to it now, but there’s not much more to it. “What do you mean?”

“I told you about my sister, right?” When he turns his head to look at him, the smile has grown bigger and his eyes are sparkling, just like at the planetarium. “Shiida is amazing! She’s ten years older than me, so she was always watching over me when we were children. My parents are kind of … Complicated, and most of the time we only had each other in the family. She taught me how to play when our mother was against me getting lessons … Nowadays she doesn’t have time to play anymore, with her job and Takeru— Uh, my nephew and all, but that’s why I’m doing it for her sake too. She’s way, way better than me though.”

So that’s why. If Ushijima doesn’t know about it, he wonders if he’d change his opinion or if he’d stay on his path if he did, saying something like ‘sentimental feelings like that don’t matter’. Whatever it is, Keiji’s decision is only strengthened by it. Tooru clearly loves his sister a lot – carrying on her legacy is a better reason than most to continue moving forward.

“What’s with that doofy smile?” Tooru pokes his cheeks without warning and it’s only then that he realises he really was smiling. “Even if this wasn’t it, I still wouldn’t budge! Hell will freeze over before I agree with Ushiwaka-chan. That’d be like … Admitting defeat to Dai-chi at a board game!”

“I mean, we’ve kind of lost against him before.”

“But I didn’t admit it. And neither did you, if I have to remind you.” Undeterred, he points at the two stacks Keiji has now. “Shouldn’t we move these together? The less I have to carry it around the better.”

Wait, he’ll carry them through the building? It’s true, there’s no vehicle or anything in sight. Is that even humanly possible? “I can help you.”

“Seriously? Don’t you have class after this?” He sounds like he’s sincerely hoping that he doesn’t.

“Yes, and so do you. Let’s get done what we can until then.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Tooru gives him a thumbs-up. “Alright! We have to hang these up all around school, so let’s hurry!”

Just what did he get himself into?

 

* * *

 

His arms have never felt more tired.

By the time he’s sitting in his next class, they’re wobbly and aching, all from carrying around stacks of posters and putting them up in occasionally hard-to-reach places. He knew paper can be heavy, but he has a newfound respect for people working with it daily now.

They don’t have a lot of lectures, most of his classes are seminar-based, but this is one of the two lectures he has to sit through each week. Back in high school, he assumed he’d like it, but nowadays he finds himself constantly spacing out as the professor goes on speaking about a subject he’s lost track of three lessons ago. He thinks it’s about how music influences the development of children, but all he hears is the same monotonous drawl he’s gotten too used to.

Maybe he should have used the posters as an excuse to skip, but on the other hand he doesn’t think he could have taken much more of that. He’d have rather just gone to eat something, or taken a nap in Tooru’s room, with or without his boyfriend. Just let him go home already.

Keiji’s sitting in the back row of the relatively large lecture hall for one simple reason: this is the only row in which you can drape your jacket over the back of your chair, and even though he’s not wearing one today, he’s gotten so used to this spot he’d probably be confused if he had to sit elsewhere.

He finds himself doodling something that vaguely resembles a penguin in his notebook, though the lines are disconnected and shaky due to his arms feeling like pudding. At least it’s still kind of cute; penguins lack the ability to _not_ be cute, he presumes.

He could be doing something else right now. Like sleep. Or practice singing. Or play his rhythm game and fail miserably due to his current state (he only hopes he’ll be fine by tomorrow, because an event is starting and he’s getting really attached to the vampire character featured in it). Or he could be cuddling up to Tooru, preferably in an air-conditioned building so he won’t be sweating bullets after two minutes … The possibilites are sheer endless. But instead he’s here and it’s not even a subject he cares for. He doesn’t want to go into teaching. Why is this class mandatory?

After what Tooru said about his sister and how he’s playing the piano for her, he can imagine him doing that though, teaching others to play so his sister’s lessons can live on. Maybe that’s why he agreed to helping Shirabu even though Keiji’s attempt at bribery was weak at best. He likes to chalk it up to him already having had a crush on him at the time, but perhaps there’s more to it.

At least in a lecture, you can’t be caught by surprise when you get called on in class. That’d give him an incentive to listen but this is also a blessing.

He adds some fluffy hair to his penguin and now it looks like Kuroo. Upon this realisation, he gives it cat ears and a tail too so it’s not even a penguin anymore. A few seconds pass until he decides he wants him to wear an Owlpaca shirt, so he draws that too, and then a guitar in one of his wings and sunglasses on his face and at this point only someone who saw it from the beginning would be able to tell what this creature used to be. Satisfied with his creation, he snaps a photo and sends it to Bokuto.

“Cute,” someone whispers next to him and almost scares him out of his seat.

People don’t talk in this lecture. There’s a few students listening and the rest is usually half (or entirely) asleep. It makes for a nice undisturbed class, but also for a drag.

He turns his head to the boy sitting on his right, who is looking at his formerly-a-penguin with an enamoured smile on his face. It’s somebody he’s peripherally aware of but has never talked to, a fairly short boy with a buzzcut and a nondescript face.

Looking at him like this, he does kind of look like a penguin himself. Maybe that’s what’s drawing him to it.

“You’re Oikawa-san’s boyfriend, right?” He looks friendly enough and if he likes penguins, he can’t be a bad person, so Keiji nods. “That’s so cool. He talks about you a lot, but I didn’t know you were in one of my classes.”

Uhm, they’ve been sitting next to each other for the entire semester. Sure, Keiji doesn’t know this guy well either, but he should at least have known of his existence. It makes him feel a bit insulted, but he answers anyway, “I’m Akaashi Keiji, nice to meet you. Is Tooru a friend of yours?”

“He lives in the dorm room next to me so we talk sometimes.” He stops when the professor halts for a moment, frowns, and continues with the lecture. Looks like he’s not paying much attention to what his students are doing either. “My name’s Watari Shinji, first year from the ballroom dancing club.”

Ballroom dancing … There’s a club for that, right, he sometimes hears them mentioned. It seems to be fairly popular – they only have the dance clubs for sports, and the ballroom dancing competitions are the biggest, so a lot of the competitive athletic ones go for it. If you want to go pro, your chances aren’t bad, especially since there is actually a branch for dancing at the school with courses you can take even if you aren’t going for that, provided you can cram it into your schedule.

“So, you’re on the choir too,” Watari says quietly, cocking his head and looking at the empty wall where there would be a PowerPoint presentation in any other class. “You were the one who botched the duet, right … But if Oikawa-san believes in you, so do I. I’ll be watching you guys at the next concert!”

Well, that’s both a grim reminder and strangely reassuring. If a near-stranger can have faith in him, so should Keiji. “Thank you. I’ll give it my all.”

“You’re friends with Terushima too, aren’t you?” And here he thought this conversation was finished. It’s a more enjoyable pastime than paying attention, so he’ll take it.

“Yes, he’s one of my best friends. You know him?”

“No, but Yahaba complains about him a lot – oh, uh, Yahaba’s my best friend.” Watari snickers like he knows something Keiji doesn’t. “His been really mad ever since Terushima and Futakuchi reconciled. He was supposed to be helping him in getting back at Futakuchi for something you probably know of already if you’re in the choir …” He stops and waits for Keiji to nod before continuing. “But that backfired. You know, he and Futakuchi used to go to the same junior high school and they know a few embarrassing secrets about each other, so neither wants for any of them to get out. Of course, they have no idea that I already know everything. You wanna hear it?”

“Uhm, I’m good, thank you.” Mental note: don’t trust Watari with any important things that need to be kept quiet. No wonder the news of his relationship are spreading like wildfire if this person is aware of it. Nice guy or no, he seems to have a habit of gossiping.

“Ah, shame. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” He winks and Keiji can’t help but wonder how good of a friend Yahaba really is to him if he’s willing to spill all his secrets just like this. Maybe it’s how he shows affection.

He attempts to focus on the lecture, but now he’s curious, damn it. Tooru said Yahaba isn’t the type to willingly help people out musically, and yet he did it for Terushima so that Futakuchi would suffer in one way or another. It must mean his secrets are pretty big and he needs something to pressure him, although he doesn’t understand how writing a song would pressure anyone in the first place unless they’re directly involved in the making …

And yet he doesn’t ask Watari, because he’s a good person with respect for other people’s privacy … And because he’s afraid he’ll say something wrong and end up in Yahaba’s position. He’s not sure what terrible secrets he has, but there have to be at least some he doesn’t want Watari to know.

He wonders if Tooru knows him well. If they live next to each other, they must run into one another a lot. Is this one of these friends he wants to get acquainted with? Despite everything, he does seem friendly enough.

 

* * *

 

_If I can’t move my arms tomorrow, I’m blaming you._

Tooru only sends an offended looking kaomoji in response to his text even though the situation is as dire as he’s making it sound. Time did not heal his wounds, only made him sore to the point where lying on his sofa to text already hurts. He has not one, but three practical classes tomorrow, and holding a violin is going to be a joy like this. Also he really doesn’t want to skip out on that event on his game …

 _Do you play Obaku Enharmonia Stage?_ If Tooru doesn’t want to take the blame, he can at least help him out here and play for him when he can’t.

 _that rhythm game? I’ve heard of it_ , comes the answer, and shortly after that, _isn’t that one song from that franchise?_

So he’s out then, that’s unfortunate. Perhaps Mai is available, she’s a pretty high rank. Still, ‘that one song’? _You’ll have to be more specific._

_it’s the one that goes like … the name we give to this feeling is looooove ~_

_It’s literally called ‘A name for love’. How did you forget that?_

_well I’m not into the franchise!! all I know is one of the girls looks like Mai-chan_

He’s not wrong. They act pretty similar too, even though this game’s Mai equivalent – Anshin Sanryi – is significantly more law-abiding. Mai isn’t a bad person or anything, but he does trust her to bend the rules to her liking. _You should start playing it. It’s fun._

_gacha games are so cruel though … okay fine, for your sake! but don’t be sad when I pull better cards than you (_ _ﾉ_ _´_ _ヮ_ _´_ _)_ _ﾉ_ _*:_ _･ﾟ_ _✧_

Oh, he doesn’t know half of it. Ever since he started playing it, Keiji’s luck on this game has been through the roof. For Tooru to catch up to him it’d take a miracle … Or a lot of money spent.

_you have to explain it to me tomorrow, let’s meet during break_ _♥_

Seeing a heart in his texts shouldn’t make him feel as strongly as it does, but Keiji is a slave to his own feelings and utterly useless when faced with his stupidly affectionate boyfriend. It’s probably a good thing they had their hands full when they met today, unless he prefers coming to class late because of acute unwillingness to let go.

He likes to think he has a decent balance of affection and distance going right now, but he’s craving him every undistracted moment. It’s likely normal, they’ve only just started going out, of course he’d want to spend all his time with him, and yet …

Considering his history with getting too attached to a person and coming off as clingy, he has to be careful. Bokuto never minded him following his every step and he’s fine with being alone lately, but when he first came to high school, people were making remarks about how he never left his friend’s side. He didn’t even notice it until then.

Hold on, he’s overthinking again. This has been working out so far, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t further down the line. Of course, eventually they’ll have to adjust, but for now he’ll just enjoy the moment for a change.

_Fine, but you’ll need to learn quickly so you can help me play the event._

_that’s why you’re telling me this?? geez Keiji here I thought you wanted to share something you like with me ;^;_

_It’s both_ , he lies. Although it is going to be nice to have one more topic to talk about. He only has to hope they won’t have a clashing taste in favourite characters.

The more he thinks about it, the more Tooru’s words sound right in his ears though. He does want to share this with him. He wants to share so many things with him, everything that makes him happy.

Then again, sharing Tooru with himself sounds logistically impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip Akaashi for many different reasons


	36. first break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the Bokuroo side story (or part 1 of it at least) is out!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12471472/chapters/30841047) check it out if you wanna know more about Bo's feelings on the whole thing and their kiss at the Concert Hall Of Accidentally Revealed Feelings!
> 
> the title is one of the ObaStage songs but actually a reference to my fanteams lol ... I based a Love Live! idolsona group of one of their schools and the volleyball club's setter's center & character song is called "atashitachi no FIRST BREAK" or "our FIRST BREAK". the volleyball break, not the pause kind of break. so it's actually kinda symbolic for this fic too even though the song it's named after in this fic isn't even important enough to receive lyrics but the actual thing is like ... a really big turning point where they go from "we're just doing this as a side thing to our usual clubs" to "okay let's actually take this seriously".
> 
> the first half of this chapter is just me projecting onto Tooru ... when I wrote it, I was stuck at uni (there was a big storm that killed off our entire train system for the day and my dad had to go get me from his work more than an hour away), had gotten up at 6:35AM with no more than 4 hours of sleep, and was basically just dead tired and tempted to lay down on the library floor and sleep the rest of the day away. that's honestly the only reason for this incessant sleepiness. there's no story purpose to it I was just really tired. if nothing else it led to a lot of floof and that's always a good thing. also the asshole neighbour renovating is based off my own neighbour who's not an asshole but also renovating at ridiculous times. I'm not usually fazed by it thankfully I could sleep through the apocalypse
> 
> it's honestly the funnest thing to write Mai be irrationally angry at Oikawa. I'll never get tired of it
> 
> also the Shirabu sequel that is definitely coming after this fic has a title now and I'm leaaaaning towards Semishira as the main ship but I'm still?? kinda undecided Yahashira would work so well too and I love both of them equally I suFFER ... it's gonna play mainly in winter and Semishira is a winter kind of ship but Yahashira is an autumn kind of ship which would. also work. aaagh

Nobody should be awake at this hour without a proper reason, but here he is, sitting in his kitchen all grouchy and tired because his body decided that 5AM is the perfect time to wake up when your day starts at ten.

Keiji knows that if he goes to sleep again after waking up by himself, he’ll just feel worse afterward. It’s not normally the case but today he can just _feel_ it, like some sort of demon standing behind him waiting to clonk him over the head with a baseball bat if he dares even close his eyes for a second longer than absolutely necessary.

The lights in his apartment are still turned off, in fact it’s a miracle he even managed to make coffee without seeing a thing, and it feels a bit eerie but mostly he’s just pissed off. He could still be in bed right now. He could be _asleep_.

He has half a mind to call someone – probably Terushima, he’s the only one he knows who is awake this early on Wednesdays – but doubts his voice is capable of producing anything but annoyed grunts at this point in time.

The worst part is that he needs to be well-rested for today. Yesterday, his plan of talking to Bokuto and Kuroo (separately, of course) about their master plan has been thwarted by life throwing Oikawa Tooru in his way as per usual, so he moved that to today, and he has to teach Tooru about his rhythm game and pay attention in class for revision of the things he’s still struggling with a bit and most importantly, there’s rehearsal today. Friday, too, and then over the weekend from morning to evening on both Saturday and Sunday. Next week is going to push them even harder, with only Thursday free.

It does make sense, but he’s not particularly looking forward to it. If choir so far, with all his mishaps and problems, has been fun, this is going to make him hate it for the next two weeks. But if they want to be their best at the concert, they have to give it their all.

He does find it bit strange, though, that they’d go that all-out for a school concert. Yes, it’s a renowned one where they want to show off what they can do, but even their first one sounded grander. They should be focusing on the competition instead of that – or at least that’s how Keiji would do it.

The sound of his phone buzzing on the table next to his coffee cup is almost drowned out by his thoughts, but he just barely catches it before it can fade out. One glance at the screen does more to surprise him than anything.

Why is Tooru calling him this early in the day?

He doesn’t really trust his voice yet, but he instantly feels a little more awake on the prospect of talking to him first thing in the morning, though he is a bit worried. “Tooru?” he asks when he picks up, and thankfully it at least comes across as the word, if a bit slurred.

“Good morning!” Even over the phone, his cheeriness sounds incredibly fake. He can hear some sound in the background – like a … Drill? “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t. What’s going on?”

A cough on the other end of the line, a short pause of the noise, and then it starts up again. “Please tell me I can come over. My neighbour had the grandiose idea to start renovating at five in the morning and I’m dying over here.”

Isn’t that literally illegal? Even if it’s not, doesn’t the dorm have rules against that sort of thing? He won’t complain about seeing him, but someone should tell them off. “Of course you can,” he ends up saying, and the words kind of blend together but he thinks it’s understandable.

“I’m on my way,” Tooru says in one of the more grateful tones of voice he’s heard in a while.

“Be careful driving here if you’re tired.”

“I will, I will, don’t worry. See you!” And the line goes quiet.

Well, if nothing else, he’s more thankful about naturally waking up now. If Tooru had woken him up with that, he might have denied him. Still, who starts drilling at 5AM? He should report that to the student council or whomever else is responsible for this.

In the good thirty minutes it takes him to get here – normally it probably would have been longer, but hardly anyone is out in the streets right now, so it may even be faster than the train – Keiji grows steadily more awake, though he still only turns the dimmest of lights on. While the sun is already rising outside, he has his shutters down, unwilling to admit defeat to the wrath of the big fireball in the sky.

Eventually the doorbell rings and he successfully fights the urge to immediately shut the door again when opening it and exposing himself to the light. Tooru is wearing a grey sweater and black sweatpants and white sneakers that have seen better days and probably only took the smallest amount of time possible to brush his hair, because it’s all over the place. He looks like he just fell out of bed and did the bare minimum amount of things required to go outside.

_Adorable._

“Good morning.”

He receives no answer, only a hug that speaks of despair and desperation. Keiji wonders how many hours of sleep he got if it’s that palpable.

With a big clingy boyfriend limiting his movement, he still somehow closes the door to let the sweet beautiful darkness reign the room once again.

“Let me sleep,” Tooru whines and he pats his head.

“Be my guest. When do classes start for you?”

“Normally ten but that was cancelled, so after lunch break.” Words that make him want to skip more than ever, to just say ‘screw it’ and cuddle with him and watch him sleep in his arms …

Hold on, since when is he the kind of person to skip classes? “You’re a terrible influence,” he mutters and gets a questioning sound in return he doesn’t bother answering.

Tooru needs three tries to take off his shoes before he succeeds, and then he guides him to the bed he hasn’t bothered tidying up yet – a good decision, for once in his life – and watches him flop down like an overgrown stuffed animal. The sound he makes upon burying his face in Keiji’s blanket is hard to describe, but he thinks he’s heard a content dog make a similar one once.

God, he’s so cute.

He turns around on the bed and looks up at him with a pleading look in his eyes. “C’mere,” he mumbles and reaches out for him. Waves his arms around when Keiji doesn’t immediately follow his plea.

At this point, what can he do but oblige?

It’s so nice to embrace him like this, pull him closer until his face is nuzzling Keiji’s chest and he sighs contently. This way, Keiji can easily bury his nose in Tooru’s hair, which is soft as ever. He wonders if there’s a way to make it even softer, and if so, how he can achieve it. Maybe he could try out a new shampoo …

It doesn’t take long for Tooru to fall asleep. He must have really been tired. It feels strange, to hold him like this, but a good kind of strange; a few weeks ago he wouldn’t have dared even thinking about this for too long but here they are, warm and calm and in love.

He’s well aware that the easiest solution would have just been to call up someone else. Surely those renovation works aren’t affecting the whole dorm, Tooru could have easily stayed at one of his other friends’ places. Even Kuroo’s is nearer to school than Keiji’s. But he actively chose to come here instead, out of love or because his bed is comfortable or because he knew he wouldn’t be thrown out, does it really matter?

Just yesterday, he feared coming off as too clingy, but right now that feels like an irrational thought.

He closes his eyes and runs his hand through his boyfriend’s hair, slowly and gently, feeling the soft strands glide through his fingers like water. It seems that the individual hairs are thin, he just has a lot of them, layers of fluffiness that just beg to be touched.

Keiji smiles to himself and lets himself get lost in the moment.

 

* * *

 

The next thing he knows is being shaken awake by someone.

“Keiji? Keiji. Keiji, wake up!”

He turns to the side and pulls his pillow closer to him, clutching onto it like his life depends on it. Nobody is disturbing him right now. They should just give up.

“Keiji! Geez …”

He wants to tell them off, but all that comes out is a sleepy grunt.

“Fine, if you want to miss even more classes than you already did …”

He snaps awake.

“Classes? Missed? Already? What?”

The look on Tooru’s face is half amused and half apologetic. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually fall asleep.”

“What time is it?” How much did he miss? Everything they’re doing right now is important, and attendance does influence his grades, but he didn’t have an excuse or anything ready if he simply overslept—

“Just past eleven.”

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself.

“I’m sorry!” Tooru really does sound like he means it now, and his hands are resting on Keiji’s shoulders. He’s only now noticing that he’s actually on top of him – it just seemed trivial until now, with bigger problems on his hands, but now that he’s aware of it, it’s making him blush at an alarming speed. “I only just woke up too. If I’d known this, I’d have set an alarm …”

“It’s okay,” he mutters and turns his head away to stare at the window, where the sun is still locked behind the blinds. “But you have to help me revise what I would have done in class.”

At least he doesn’t have to rush now. He feels decently well-rested, though there’s still that annoying feeling sitting in his bones that he gets when he messes up his sleep cycle, and the next class only starts at one. He wants to make it to lunch still to talk to Bokuto and Kuroo, but other than that, nothing is hurrying him along.

It helps that this is technically Tooru’s fault. If it had been any other person, he might not have been as lenient.

His boyfriend turned unreliable alarm clock climbs off him and he can’t decide whether he approves of that or not, but he sits down on the bed, which he supposes is an acceptable replacement. Without even thinking about it much, he turns back around and reaches for his head to run a hand through Tooru’s hair, earning a confused little sound that soon turns into a content hum.

“You can teach me about that phone game then like you said. Enharmonia … Whatever that was.”

“Obaku Enharmonia Stage,” Keiji corrects him.

“Whatever. What does that even mean?” Even though his voice sounds disinterested, the phone already in his hand betrays him – nobody who doesn’t care would jam in that name so quickly. He’s probably already done a bit of research.

“Obaku is the name of the fantasy country it plays in.” It’s supposed to mean something like ‘Land of Mist’, but the grammar of that made-up language is dodgy at best. “It takes a while to download. Are you still logged into my wi-fi?”

“Yup. And while that’s going on, we can pass the time …” Tooru flops onto the mattress next to him and wraps his arms around Keiji’s neck, pulls him toward him until he swears he can feel his heartbeat.

“Don’t fall asleep again,” he wills himself to whisper.

His lips twist into a playful smile. “Wasn’t planning to.” And that’s all they say before their lips meet.

The feeling of it is a bit strange. Their kisses before were some shade of warranted – when they confessed, and when they were saying goodbye, even that at the planetarium after the ride there – but this is different. They’re just doing it for the sake of it, because it feels nice and they can and they’re in love, like you’d play a video game because it’s fun and you have nothing else to do. A casual display of affection much unlike what they did before.

It’s nice. He’s not used to this sort of thing; the more he thinks about it, the less invested his old relationships seem to feel, and yet he somehow managed to make this work. Perhaps he should be proud of himself.

Or, well, he can be proud of himself once this has lasted a while. It’s very easy to forget that it hasn’t been too long. He was dancing around him ever since the concert, maybe even before that if he’s truly honest with himself, so it feels longer.

The kisses are deep and passionate, but still slow and gentle, as they’re taking their time. There’s no need to hurry anymore so he can take it all in, Tooru’s soft gasps whenever they part, the way his body feels when he’s running a hand over his side, the tingling feeling left in his chest when he breathes him in.

_Blissful._

He doesn’t know for how long they stay like this, only that by the time they remember they just meant to pass the time, the download is long finished.

The rest of their time here is spent with Keiji explaining what the game is about and how to play it, and he has to find out that Tooru completely sucks at rhythm games, despite being in the music field. It’s hilarious to look at but kind of frustrating when he keeps failing, but he seems to be enjoying it anyway, especially after pointing out that one of the guys in the group he picked as a starter totally reminds him of Sawamura. He finds himself agreeing and wondering if, now that they have both a Mai and a Sawamura in this game, there’s an equivalent for their other friends as well. A side character that’s half owl resembling Bokuto? Surely there has to be someone like that.

His stomach grumbling is what prompts them to leave – if this was good for anything, it’s that to get themselves some food there’s no need to actually make something right now since they want to go to the cafeteria anyway – and the car ride to school is spent with comfortable small talk, though Keiji is mostly just listening. He’s never been one to know what to say in those sorts of conversations, but it feels refreshing to see Tooru so bubbly without being forced to reply.

Keiji can’t help his smile as he watches him, eyes set on the road but mind clearly still in the game. He seems to have taken a liking to it even though he sucks, and it sets off a strange fluttery feeling in his heart. It’s nice to share another interest.

(Though he is willing to call this relationship quits should Tooru pull a card he really wants.)

The campus is busy as always when they arrive there, so much so he’s a bit concerned as to whether they’ll get a seat in the cafeteria. Bokuto should have saved him one like he said, but with Tooru in tow now, it might get problematic.

“So, how’s operation Bokuroo going anyway?” he asks as they make their way through the masses coming from the direction of the cafeteria.

“Well, Kuroo-san has agreed, so the problem is Bokuto-san now.” It shouldn’t be too difficult to get him in Kuroo’s general vicinity, he only needs to make sure he won’t pick up on anything strange. His friend may be slow on the uptake sometimes, but occasionally he displays a downright scary level of perceptiveness when it comes to someone trying to talk him into something. He still doesn’t know whether they’re lucky guesses or he’s genuinely that good at reading people without even trying, but either way it can be pretty terrifying.

“What’s the time and location? I’ll see if I can arrange something.”

They haven’t thought that far yet. This week probably won’t be feasible, so next week it’s most likely going to be, although the concert is coming up too … He’d like to have this done before that so he can be done with this topic before their big show, plus Mai said she wanted to see results by then. It’s all a matter of either shoving it into his limited time or hire someone else to keep watch, which he’d rather avoid doing. “We’ll see about that.”

The conversation is cut short by their arrival at the cafeteria, which is as packed as he feared. His stomach is grumbling once again upon the sight of those long lines and he thinks that maybe he should have grabbed something to eat on the way after all.

Thankfully, the usual group is sitting at their usual spot, and Bokuto waves them over as soon as he sees them. Kuroo, sitting two seats away from him unlike always, pulls a face when he spots Keiji.

Terushima isn’t here, but Mai is, and she doesn’t look too happy either when she realises he’s not alone. There’s a free seat between her and Bokuto and another next to Amanai on the edge of the table, so at least they’ll get to sit down. He exchanges a quick glance with Tooru before sitting down at the former. It’s probably best if he keeps Mai and Tooru as far away from each other as possible. She may have called a truce, but if looks could kill, his boyfriend would have dropped dead as soon as she lay her eyes on him.

“That one was for Terushima, actually,” Kuroo points out toward Tooru and receives demonstrative silence.

“I don’t think he’ll show up anyway,” Mai argues, but her voice and expression make a point out of making that as little of a defence as possible. Amanai picks up on it as well and stares at her empty plate with a nervous little smile.

Between the Bokuroo dilemma and the usual drama between his boyfriend and best friend, maybe he can bond with her over not wanting to deal with any of it, except that she actually doesn’t have to while he’s kind of trapped in this position.

Keiji steals a glance at Mai’s food – a half-eaten hamburger steak with some rice and, on another smaller plate, one of the cupcakes that are allegedly so good Owlpaca had to write a song about them.

His stomach gives another growl.

Despite the chatter of other students all around them, somehow their table feels awkwardly quiet now.

“Uh, you can have this if you want to,” Mai says and pushes the plate toward him.

From the other side of the table, he swears he can hear Tooru giggle quietly into his hand, even though he should be just as badly off as Keiji. Neither of them have eaten anything yet.

But he’s not about to turn this down, both because Mai would probably force it on him if he didn’t and because he can think of nicer things than getting dizzy from hunger when they have rehearsal today. “Thank you. I’ll buy you something later to make up for it.”

“Oh, melon bread please! They have this limited edition one in the convenience store here right now that’s way too expensive but _so good_ …” He has half a mind to ask her just how expensive they’re talking about but he does owe her now, so he’ll have to oblige if that means he’ll satiate his hunger somehow.

The food is a bit cold at this point but he still thinks he’s hardly ever felt as blissful eating a hamburger steak.

“Kuro-chaaan?” Tooru sing-songs, but gets shut down immediately.

“Buy your own food. I’m not your mom.”

“Rude! I haven’t eaten anything yet today either!”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto chimes in and pats Keiji’s shoulder, “deserves it more than you do though.”

“Keiji! Say something!”

He doesn’t bother swallowing before saying, “They do have a point.”

A dramatic gasp, followed by, “I’m breaking up with you.”

“Good,” Mai mutters next to him and adds a quick “sorry” when Keiji glares at her.

“I’d give you some of my food, but …” Amanai laughs apologetically and points at her plate. The only thing he could eat from that at this point is the porcelain.

“You are all terrible and I hate you,” Tooru declares and stands up to head for the food counter, though not before sticking his tongue out at them.

He’s so cute.

“How do you survive him, Akaashi?” Kuroo asks and Keiji shakes his head with a smile.

“I don’t know either.”

Speaking of love lives though, there’s a reason he came here beyond the food. He only needs a place and a time to ask Bokuto to meet up, as long as it won’t obscure the … Concert …

Hold on, that’s _perfect_. How didn’t he think of that before?

Bokuto’s going to be there at the concert. So is Kuroo. It’d be the perfect opportunity to push the Kuroo-and-Terushima narrative, with them being all excited afterward, and it’d make the whole thing seem more natural than to just happen to run into them somewhere. It’s the easiest to coordinate since they’ll all meet up anyway and he won’t even have to hide.

He makes a mental note of proposing this to Mai as soon as they’re alone.

 

* * *

 

Terushima and Mai look at each other and nod solemnly before turning their attention back to Keiji. Choir starts in a few minutes, but right now they’re still outside, going over the plan.

“It does make sense,” she says quietly, even though nobody who could overhear them would know what’s going on anyway. “From what I’ve heard, there’s a party after the concert too, so we could lead right into that.”

“There is, it’s pretty big.” Sometimes he forgets that Terushima knows his way around here better than most. He wonders if he visited often when he was still in high school or if he just heard a lot of things. “This could work!”

“It’d make everything a lot easier to plan, that’s for certain.” It also means that they have not just the three of them, but also Tooru, possibly Sawamura, and maybe even Futakuchi helping them out. Perhaps Yumi could also do her part … He’s just not sure about Shimizu.

“So, the plan has moved back to the evening of the concert,” Mai summarises and they all share nods before they get called inside.

This is kind of exciting, like they’re kids on the playground playing detective, except this time there’s real world stakes attached. He can’t force Bokuto to develop romantic feelings for Kuroo, but he can help him make it clear to himself whether they’re already there. For the sake of his best friend as well as Tooru’s, and of course the entirety of Owlpaca, this situation cannot continue like this.

Nekomata seems unusually cheerful as he starts rehearsal. Keiji swears his inflection mimics that of a giddy schoolgirl, which is an image he’d rather not have in his head but here he is. His director is usually in a good mood, but this is excessive – there’s such a spring in his step too it’s surprising him he’s not leaping around in joy.

“The venue for the competition we’re singing at in October has been revealed,” he says and it sounds like it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. That in return makes it much more terrifying. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with Akagi Hotel …”

Someone in the back row gasps and the rest is silence – shocked, awed, slightly scared silence.

Of course he knows Akagi Hotel. It’s pretty much the most well-known place in the neighbouring city and the main reason the area is a tourist magnet. Even if you can’t afford staying or eating there – which, to be honest, is more than likely considering their outrageous prices – you absolutely have to visit. Keiji went there after the open day and felt like its sheer pompousness was enough to kill a man. It’s the definition of high class that only the richest of the rich can afford.

And they’re going to _sing_ there?

“This is a fake-out, right?” Terushima whispers, uncharacteristically solemn. “He’s gonna say they’re sponsoring it or something, right? There’s no way.”

But Nekomata’s face betrays nothing of the sort, only unbridled enthusiasm, when he says, “They were on the fence about it, but since last year was such a big event, they decided that the Akagi’s main hall was an appropriate location.”

Everyone collectively loses their mind.

The silence is broken by almost everyone starting to talk at once, questioning whether this is actually happening or a joke, starting sentences over again and again in a loss of words, and generally freaking out about this revelation. Terushima is shaking him with such ferocity he almost bumps into the guy on his other side, repeating words to him that get lost in the chaos.

Keiji only stares at the piano.

The Akagi. They’re singing at the Akagi. The competition songs don’t include _Spica_ , so there’s no way for him to embarrass himself among even higher society than last time, but the prospect of standing on a stage in a hotel that’s known pretty much worldwide and certainly will be watched by thousands of people, both in person and on television, is frightening.

And if the competition is held at such a place, he can’t begin to imagine how hard it will be. This isn’t some little just-for-fun community singing event, it’s serious, a miracle they even got chosen to compete except it’s not, of course it’s not, because last year they were amazing and this year he can’t even tell since he’s now wrapped up in all of it.

All he knows is if they mess up anything at all, the consequences will be severe, both for the choir and their individual careers. And if they do fine but don’t stand out at all, they’ll lose.

He doesn’t want to lose.

Until now, the competition has been a throwaway event to him, just another thing on their agenda while the concert was the one to focus on, but suddenly everything got turned upside down. It’s a bit relieving as a soloist if nothing else, but he feels like they’ve misplaced their attention. They’ve been practicing the competition songs, sure, but not any more than the others.

Heck, Nekomata called it a ‘small regional competition’ when he first mentioned it. Just what is his definition of ‘small’? He should have guessed something was off as soon as the whole ‘you have to have at least one original song’ thing came into play. No ‘small regional competition’ would have such a requirement.

Ever since the practice camp, his new relationship with Tooru and the Bokuroo dilemma have taken up most of his thoughts. Getting this bomb dropped on them like this now is a cruel reminder of what he’s actually here for – this is the Musical Academy of Karasuno: big, prestigious, certainly not pulling any punches …

And they’re its main choir, sent to represent them to the rest of the nation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the reason Nekomata called it 'small' isn't because of lack of scale but because he didn't wanna shock them too much and fuck over their progress ... this is the first year they're participating so this is new to everyone and he didn't want it to hang over them like the sword of Damocles or whatever metaphor works best for this case


	37. Those Who Wavered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 died on me upon first posting this so here's my previous A/N in short form because fuck you AO3 why does this keep happening
> 
> \- it February! tell your loved ones you love them idc if it's romantic or platonic. make Valentine's Day a general Great People Appreciation Day  
> \- I wrote pretty much this entire chapter half-asleep so if it feels weird, now you know why. honestly I don't really know anything about this chapter. it just. exists. it was suddenly there  
> \- weekend rehearsals are the bane of my existence and if I have to suffer through them so does Kaash  
> \- the semester is technically over (still have two exams to go tho) so I'd tell you I'd update more consistently but. I already kinda do that. so all I'll promise is that alpacas are very soft and need to be appreciated oKAY GOOD NIGHT

Mai is sitting on her bed and staring at him with an expression he can’t quite decipher – not that he’s trying to. He’s pacing through her dorm room, a million thoughts swirling around in his head, all of them somewhere along the lines of _The Akagi. We’re competing at the Akagi. At the Akagi._

There’s only one good thing that came from this, and that’s that he’s now so preoccupied worrying about the competition, he can’t find it in himself to worry about the concert anymore. What’s a little duet compared to _competing at the Akagi_?

Even Terushima looked like he was feeling the pressure, and Terushima is the most easy-going guy he knows. Well, of course he’d be that way, not only does he have a solo, he wrote one of the songs too. If anyone here has the right to be nervous, it’s him.

Keiji meant to talk to the people at the theatre this weekend, but from what it looks like, he won’t even have the time. Weekend practice will be ruthless and deservedly so – especially _#showtime_ is still lacking the necessary oomph to really impress and they don’t have much time. Yes, it’s only in October, but September is as good as here.

Why would Nekomata drop this bomb on them now of all times? Couldn’t he have waited until after the concert?

Mai throws something at him that he catches instinctively. It’s a soft plush bunny that has seen better days – one eye is missing and its dark blue fur looks worn. One ear is flopping to the side while the other is standing up perfectly. “Cute,” he mutters to himself.

“This is Lyssa and she’s telling you to calm down,” Mai says and waves her hand around. “Now give her back or she’ll be really, really sad.”

“Thank you, Lyssa …” He carefully hands her back to Mai – that poor bunny surely doesn’t like being thrown around.

Despite being the one to hurl the poor thing around in the first place, she carefully pats Lyssa’s head and sets her down on the bed with her other plush bunnies. Keiji wouldn’t have thought of her as a bunny person, but her room is full of them. Her hair is in double buns today too – the closest thing to bunny ears she can get, he supposes.

He fully intended to go home after rehearsal, but ended up feeling so restless he thought he’d go insane alone in his apartment, so he just kind of tailed Mai and invited himself into her room. Terushima has gone home and he didn’t feel like waltzing off his troubles on Tooru once again, and since she lives on campus, it was easy to just stay.

“It’s amazing though, isn’t it?” When she looks at him, he swears he can see her eyes sparkle. It’s a bit terrifying; she doesn’t seem fazed by this at all. “The Akagi. Do you think we’ll be able to stay the night if it goes on for too long?”

“I don’t think any of us have that money.” It would indeed be amazing though. It’s that kind of expensive, pretentious place he could never even dream of affording unless he happens to win the lottery. He doesn’t know what the rooms look like, but he’s sure they’re as impressive as the lobby and the hallways.

“I mean, Karasuno has a ton of funding,” she argues and reaches for a box on her nightstand, pulling out a cookie, and nods when he asks wordlessly if he can have one too. “It’d be so cool … And we’d have bragging rights!”

She’s not wrong. It’d also be kind of romantic sharing a room there with Tooru for a night … He feels his cheeks heat up at the mere thought of that.

“Did you just think something inappropriate or why are you blushing?”

“N-no!” That wasn’t what he meant at all! Although …

No. It’s way too early in their relationship for this. No.

“You’re not very convincing,” Mai deadpans and he sighs and sits down on the sofa, defeated. It’s her fault he’s now really thinking about it, so she’s entirely to blame. “Just leave me out of it, ‘kay?”

“Of course,” Keiji mumbles and glares at her. “You’re terrible.”

“Can’t argue with that. But …” A grin appears on her face. “You’re not pacing anymore, so I must be doing something right.”

Oh. She’s right.

She sighs and shakes her head, smile unwavering. “Trust me, I’m nervous too. But Nekomata wouldn’t let us do this if he didn’t believe in us. And I believe in us too. So should you. Only good things have come from this so far, right? Even from the worst things, something better has sprung.”

He stares at her, trying to process her words.

Things certainly didn’t go as planned, but right now he’s pretty much the happiest he’s ever been. He has wonderful friends, a boyfriend he loves, a goal to chase, a bright future. He could have done without the uncertainty, the hesitation, the breakdown – but in the end, what it led to was this.

“Even if we somehow mess up that competition,” she continues, “you learn more from mistakes than from success. It’ll just open another door … That’s how I see it at least. And hey, this is my first time being on a choir! I’m starting up my choir career at the Akagi! That’s the best thing ever!”

Her enthusiasm is so genuine he can’t help but smile along with her. He knows she’s right, of course she is, but hearing her say it like that kind of drives home the point in a way he didn’t feel before.

Now, his nervousness is fading, just a little bit, to make room for excitement.

 

* * *

 

“Two weeks.” Nekomata has his arms crossed and is wearing a quite dangerous smile. “Two weeks until the school concert.”

Time has passed so quickly.

It’s Friday, and they’ve been focusing so much on their concert songs that the Akagi has become background noise once again. At this point, Keiji isn’t sure what Nekomata even wants them to feel.

“You’re doing great, but we’ll work out the last kinks tomorrow and on Sunday. Be prepared for rigorous practice. Those of you who aren’t used to the choreography yet, better practice it tonight or you’ll suffer.”

Is that a threat or a promise?

They warm up their voices and go right into _Spica_ because of course they do. They’ve been kind of neglecting that song lately, so right now is the first time he can actually put everything Tooru told him and everything he felt up on that stage into practice.

_You could make the whole world listen. Sing to them like you sang to me, and they’ll be begging to hear more._

He knows he can do it. Tooru called him better than himself. Whether he believes that or not, it’s only now that he realises what it entails.

When he first came here, he wanted to get his approval.

There’s no need to doubt himself anymore, is there?

_Listen to me._

Their duet passes by him like a river. He doesn’t think. He follows the steps that have been drilled into his brain, the melody he could sing in his sleep, the lyrics he still finds obnoxiously cryptic but is starting to truly understand. And he imagines that stage, that empty audience that his mind turned into a real one, and how much he loved the feeling.

In a choir, it’s not about individual skill. It’s about harmonising and not overpowering one another while still maintaining a group dynamic that draws you in. Even if you’re the best singer in the world, you’re nothing if you can’t conform to that. The only time that pattern breaks is during solos, and that’s when you can show what you’re made of.

He knows he’s good.

He knows it now.

Nekomata cuts them off right after they’re done.

“Nametsu.”

“Yes, sir!” she replies without missing a beat.

“This wasn’t a problem until recently, but just now you traded emotion for stability. Don’t be afraid to let your voice waver. Right now you’re too loud. Think about what the song is telling you and pour that into your voice.”

Hold on, is he … _Criticising_ Mai? For the thing that he’d normally criticise Keiji for? Is he dreaming? Did he end up in a parallel universe? Is it opposite day? But that’s normally on Wednesdays, right?

“Understood,” she says and sounds a bit like a new soldier faced with their superior for the first time: eager, but intimidated.

“Akaashi …”

“Yes?” He likes to think he did a good job just now – but perhaps he didn’t. Perhaps he was being too sentimental and the whole thing backfired. Perhaps—

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m glad to see you’re finally enjoying yourself.”

What?

“Before, you seemed a bit strained, like you didn’t actually want to be here. It seems like you’ve found your reason for singing. And if you don’t think you have yet, continue down the path you’re on. I promise it’s the right one. Now from the top.”

His reason.

The reason he joined choir was … Admittedly, sheer pettiness. His subconscious was urging him to go, sure, but he stayed mostly because he couldn’t let Tooru look down on him like that and reacted on a whim. And then his reason became to figure out if he’s truly capable of letting his emotions show and captivating the audience. And he wanted to do his best with the choir, sure …

Right now feels different.

What is his reason?

When he thinks back to the invisible force pulling him toward the audience, and the emotions blooming up in his heart thinking about performing for them, he thinks he knows the answer.

He nails his part the next time, too.

_Listen to me._

 

* * *

 

Keiji doesn’t know how he ended up in this situation, but here he is.

Their room is empty now, everyone else long gone, and he’s playing that beautiful grand piano with Tooru’s head resting on his shoulder. It’s a song he hasn’t played in a long time – the one he chose for his first piano recital. He picked it out because he liked the title, _Those Who Wavered_ , and how it played into the flow of the song, creating a whole story out of itself that ends a triumphant crescendo.

Even though it’s been a while, his hands find the keys without much effort.

“I hate you,” Tooru mutters and adds a little extra harmony on his side that, despite being improvised and played without much care, works flawlessly with the rest of the song. Show-off. “How dare you.”

“Didn’t Nekomata-san say he wanted a duet with us two anyway? And you’re in a different voice. I’m not stealing any of your solos.”

“I know,” he whines. “It’s just. _Ugh._ I can’t deal with how proud I am. It feels weird. I’m not used to it.”

Keiji laughs quietly and earns a distinctly nonharmonic addition to his song from Tooru’s side.

This week’s theme seems to be ‘not going home when you were supposed to’, as it’s way past the time he’d usually leave. He just kind of felt like playing; today has been good, and he needed to let those emotions out somehow.

“What do you think Nekomata meant when he said you found your reason?” Tooru asks, but his voice makes it clear he already knows the answer.

He hums, thinking about it. He knows exactly what it is, but putting it in words is difficult. “When we were at the theatre …” No, that’s a terrible way to start. “I’ve always been singing for something that I set myself. It was supposed to just be a thing at the side, but I don’t think I realised how important it was to me until recently.”

“And that’s exactly why all of our practice didn’t do crap,” Tooru concludes and he finds himself nodding.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time like that.”

“C’mon, you know it was just an excuse to spend time with you. Although I did think I could help. I guess I had the right idea with the planetarium that day, but it wasn’t good enough … I was looking at it from my own perspective rather than yours. I mean, the stars always inspire me, so I thought … Ah, whatever.” He sits up straight and, after a moment of contemplation, stands up from the piano stool. It feels like something is missing now, although he has to admit it’s more comfortable to be sitting on that thing alone. It’s definitely not meant for two people.

He lets the song fade out on quiet note quite unlike what it’s supposed to be and turns to look at him with a smile. Tooru is studying the posters on the wall that look like they’re meant to explain how to play an instrument to a beginner – why on earth they would be at Karasuno of all places he doesn’t know. Maybe for those who want to branch out as a hobby.

“Iwa-chan and Shiida are going to be at the concert,” he says and pulls a face. “That means Tobio is coming too. Ugh. Not looking forward to that. Did you invite anyone?”

“Only my mother.” He would have loved to invite his extended family whom he’s close to, but most of them live so far away it’d be too much to ask. Maybe his mother will bring his aunt and cousins along. “I’m looking forward to meeting your friends and Iwaizumi-san though.”

He distinctly remembers their conversation from way back, when Tooru grouped them together as the responsible type. Somehow, he has a feeling they’ll get along. “Oh, dear god, I’m going to suffer, aren’t I?”

“Depends. Are you planning to annoy us?”

“Of course, I haven’t had the opportunity in way too long. For Iwa-chan, I mean, I can annoy you all the time.”

“You’re not very annoying, to be honest.”

“Great, I’m failing at that too?”

Keiji follows him and wraps his arms around him in a somewhat awkward side-hug. “Don’t worry. At least you can say you’re together with the person beating you at everything. That’s something to be proud of too.”

“You’re the _worst_ ,” he complains and turns his head to kiss him ever so swiftly. “I love you.”

“You say that a lot, don’t you?” he asks, but his voice betrays the flutter in his chest. “Don’t you think you’ll wear it out?”

“Never, as long as it’s still true.” After a moment of contemplation, Tooru adds, “I love you. I love you. I love you—”

“Okay, fine, I get it, that’s enough.” At this rate he’s going to make him explode. It still feels so unreal for this to be the truth, yet also very, very real. It’s odd. He doesn’t hate the feeling. “It’s just a bit strange so early in our relationship.”

“You were the one who said it first!” Tooru complains and pouts. “Besides, after how long I suffered with that uncertainty you can’t stop me.”

“Why didn’t you just confess then?” He certainly knew of his feelings, especially after their almost-kiss at the concert hall. It would have been so much easier.

To his surprise, though, the answer is, “Because I can’t read you for shit. I understand what you’re feeling, but not _why_ you’re feeling it and what you want to do with those feelings. I didn’t know if you even wanted this. Honestly, after the Cassiopeia concert I was convinced you were trying to run from your emotions and focus on something more important. Especially after I made it so obvious … You’re not _that_ dense, are you?”

What’s with that emphasis? “Of course not. It was just … I kept overthinking.” His one true talent. “I could tell you were interested but not how deep it went, and … How honest it was.”

“You mean you thought I was faking my affection?” It doesn’t sound as appalled by the idea as he would have assumed, rather genuinely curious.

“No, not that. But being upfront about what I felt and saying it out loud would have given you a chance to do basically anything you wanted while I’m vulnerable. Maybe I subconsciously thought that you would grow bored of me, or that you didn’t want this regardless. That you were just playing with me until you found something more exciting.” Keiji looks him straight in the eyes when he says, quietly, “I think you could be that cruel.”

It’s not an insult. It’s certainly not a compliment. It’s just a statement, something he’s been feeling for a while but was unable to put into words, even now that he knows it’s not true. Tooru says he can’t read him, but he still understands Keiji better than the other way around. His true intentions were difficult to gauge.

Knowing that makes this all the more special.

“Hmm … I guess.” Tooru cocks his head and looks up at the ceiling. “Guess we both have some walls up that we can’t see through.”

“Everyone does,” Keiji mutters. “It just means we need to talk about what’s beyond.”

“Well said.” They finally let go and he takes a step back to look at Tooru. Right now, there’s a vulnerability about him, something he doesn’t see much. It reminds him of the Midsummer Market. When someone’s as brimming with confidence as him, these moments are rare – it’s not _insecurity_ per se, rather … Intimacy, perhaps.

He likes to think this is a side of him reserved only for those closest to him.

“Tooru?”

“Hm?”

“How do you feel about the competition being at the Akagi?” It seems like a stupid question compared to their conversation just now, but he has to know. Mai’s perspective on things has helped ease his nervousness a bit at least.

“Oh, that? It’s really exciting.” His lips twist into what he can only describe as a competitive smile. “I like competitions in general, and having it as such a place is great. Intimidating, sure, but in the end it’s just a place. It could be on some empty parking lot and it’d still be the same. We just need to do our absolute best and it’ll work out just fine. This isn’t some game of sports where you can influence your opponents with your plays, so in the end it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“I suppose so.” Is he the only one nervous about this? Maybe he’s just not used to it. Fukurodani didn’t go this big.

“What, are you scared? After that performance today?” The smile doesn’t disappear. “You don’t even have a solo. We’ll do just fine. Karasuno, remember?” Tooru gestures around the room in what he assumed is supposed to be a ‘look at this school’ sort of message, but it’s pretty ambiguous. “I don’t even know what other choirs are singing if it’s a regional competition, and that should give you a sense of scale.”

“Just because we’re noteworthy doesn’t mean we’re good,” Keiji argues.

“You’re right. We’re good because we’re good. And we’ll win because we’re good. Simple as that. Even if we weren’t, there’s not more to do than give it our all.”

He knows he has a point, and it does kind of help to put him at ease. If Mai was one percent and Tooru another … He still has ninety-eight people to talk to to turn these feelings over. Can he even find that many?

“Teru-chan’s going to kill it,” Tooru remarks and he finds himself nodding. That’s one absolute truth. “And that’s going to give us the energy we need too. Well, that and practice, practice, practice …” He pauses and whisks out his phone. Frowns at the screen. “Practice and sleep. It’s getting way too late. Let me drive you home.”

“You don’t need to.” He appreciates the offer, but Tooru lives on campus, that’d just be an unnecessary hindrance to his own rest.

“I want to though.”

“Do you enjoy driving me around whenever we’re together or what?”

“Yes, actually. I like driving.” Well, that’s an answer he didn’t expect. He thought he’d say something silly or dramatic. “Sometimes I just go out at night and drive around a bit.”

“Your poor gas bill,” Keiji finds himself retort.

“ _Actually_ , my sister pays that. Since it’s still technically her car, at least officially, she insisted … And I do have enough money to spare, thanks.”

“Where do you even get that?” He knows he probably has a job of some sort but they’ve never talked about it, nor did it come up in their planning. It must be the most laid-back job of all time if he just gets money but never works.

“I give piano lessons.”

Oh. Okay, that actually makes sense.

“I can do Shirabu for free because most people who ask me for it are really rich people who want their kids to learn from the best and don’t care how much it costs … Saying I’m at Karasuno usually does the trick.” He pulls a somewhat disgusted face. “Most of the time it’s only the parents who want it though. The children are usually either little entitled brats who only complain or really quiet, demure children who are too afraid to speak up against their parents. It’s pretty terrible. I try to make it fun for them, but there’s that one boy who has just turned me into his personal venting machine … Pretty sure he’s cried more than he’s played so far.”

That really does sound terrible. Those are those kinds of parents who want for their child to be a prodigy because they have some image to uphold or because they never could be one themselves. He silently thanks his mother for never imposing anything like that on him.

“I don’t have too many right now, only Shirabu and Yuu-chan – uh, that boy I just mentioned … So I’m pretty flexible. Last year it was a lot though, on top of everything else, so I decided to take it easy this year. Maybe do some modelling jobs at the side if I have the time …”

“Modelling?” He can see that. He’s tall, pretty, charismatic, and confident. It sounds like an unfriendly industry to work in though.

“Only small things, like for shops … I wouldn’t turn it into a career.”

“That’s a shame, I’d love to say I’m dating a supermodel,” Keiji jokes.

“You can say you’re dating the most renowned piano teacher in all of Japan! Uh, someday. For now though you should say you’re going to bed because you need it and so do I.” Tooru heads for his bag and packs up the few things still lying around, mostly sheet music and a water bottle. “I’d love to stay the night but I have to go back after I drop you off, there’s a few things I want to go over before rehearsal.”

“Is weekend rehearsal really that bad?” Fukurodani’s was always pretty intense, but mostly just exhausting because they were standing all the time.

“Nope,” Tooru says, makes a dramatic pause, and winks at him with a sheepish smile. “It’s worse.”

Oh joy.

 

* * *

 

There’s a very different atmosphere about weekend rehearsal.

As soon as he enters the campus grounds, he feels like he’s going to regret ever coming to Karasuno. With everything that has been said about it, he certainly isn’t looking forward to it.

Keiji wants to think Nekomata wouldn’t be so mean as to wear them out entirely, but this is their only long rehearsal until the concert and he isn’t stupid enough to believe it’ll be a breeze. He only hopes his stamina will keep up.

At least he got a decent amount of sleep and feels well-rested; perhaps talking to Tooru yesterday has cleared his mind somewhat, or maybe it’s just a placebo effect of what he’d like to believe. As long it helps, he’s not complaining.

He’s a bit early by design, as he said he’d meet with Yumi. Even though they haven’t been talking much recently, he still considers her a friend and someone who’s easy to be around. Though he swears she could kill him if she really wanted to and would likely do so with an unchanging smile.

For now, the reason they wanted to meet is a certain part in the choreography of _Reach_ she can’t seem to get right. Since it was his group who made that one and he was the only person available (or rather willing to get up earlier than necessary, something he never thought he’d say but he has a hard time saying no to Yumi), she thought it’d help to go over it with him once again.

Fortunately, Nekomata’s threat from yesterday doesn’t apply to him. He’s not the best dancer in the world, but he has all the choreographies down pat, as most of them do. His muscle memory isn’t betraying him for once – if he sleepwalked he’d probably dance them while doing so.

Now that summer is officially on its way out, it has gotten warmer again. Keiji has giving up on attempting to understand how the weather here works, but he appreciates being able to go outside in a t-shirt, even though he did take a light sweater along if it cools down. The cardigan he thought to be a bit too warm, even though he loves wearing it. It’s probably his favourite piece of clothing he owns right now, both because of the symbolism to it and because it’s one of the most comfortable things he’s ever worn.

Right now, there’s only the wooden owl necklace resting underneath his shirt. He’d rather have it on display but it’d definitely be an annoyance with all the quick movement they’ll have to do.

A light breeze blows through the city and he stops and stretches his arms before heading for the meeting point they settled on.

This weekend is going to be hard on all of them, but he can’t manage to hate it quite yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, you will, Kaash. you will.


	38. A Premonition or a Vision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mai is a mystery ... maistery. I feel like I've made a similar joke with another character once before.
> 
> this took a bit longer than usual and it's because of my absolutely atrocious time management recently ... I've had so many things to draw and write and then I had yet anOTHER thing that I didn't really need to write but ended up getting invested in ... I'm not sure if I'm gonna publish it though, it turned out nice but would probably get me kicked out of the fandom. cOUGHS. hey, if nothing else I recently passed a linguistic exam I was kinda worried about so that's nice!
> 
> either way, sorry for making you wait ... provided there's actually anyone still reading ... I can never tell. not that it truly matters other than for my own Feelings of Validation™ since I'm certainly not gonna quit this, no matter how many or few people are here. you cannot stop me! I WILL have the first finished long multichapter fic in the Akaoi tag!!!! then again ... don't make me think about finishing this ... //weeps
> 
> for all that waiting, this chapter seems pretty pointless. it's not really, but it seems that way. there's a lot of things coming to the surface. also I'm 4k words into the Oikawa side story at this point and it's probably gonna be really long since there's a few scenes I wanna show from his perspective. writing it like that, the atmosphere of some of them changes quite a bit. but that's something you'll see once I post that! ~
> 
> most importantly though, let me use this opportunity to once again say FUCK WEEKEND REHEARSAL. I swear, even though it was 30+ people practicing together all day, NOTHING interesting happened. I can't remember anything from weekend rehearsal but pain and suffering and so, so much monotony. and there's this unspoken rule in my life that if I have to suffer, so does Keiji, so yeah. sorry my friend

After not talking to her for a while, going over the steps with Yumi only reminds him why he likes her. She’s calm and quick to pick up on his teachings, and the things she says to joke around or fill the silence are usually harmless enough. Even though her dancing skills could use some work, her breathing technique is phenomenal, and he deems her ready to face weekend practice of alleged hell long before he thought they’d be finished.

Yumi heads for the convenience store to buy something to drink while Keiji decides to go visit Tooru. He considered inviting himself into Bokuto’s dorm room, but there’s no way that guy is awake at just past seven on a Saturday and he doesn’t feel like waking him up. If Tooru’s still asleep … Well, he’ll just drop by Mai’s place. She posted something on Twitter over two hours ago, because she may be a masochist.

He’s halfway to the dorm building when he hears a familiar sound in the distance.

The soft, high singing of a flute being played rather amateurishly resonates through the air, and although it’s certainly not what he’d call _good_ , it’s still intriguing. For someone to practice this early, and here of all places when they’re clearly a beginner, they must be an interesting person.

Before he knows it, he’s following the sound.

He stops at a small hill, on top of which a swing is built into what resembles a huge white birdcage. Keiji vaguely remembers Misaki saying something about how it was a gift by some artist they couldn’t refuse a few years ago and is now mostly used for people to argue about who gets to use the swing first, but there’s nobody sitting on the seat right now.

Instead, Mai is standing just outside it, intensely focused on her flute play.

She did say a while ago she was interested in learning, but she never brought it up again, so he assumed she’d dropped it. Yet here she is, playing, and although it’s still very rough, it also doesn’t sound like she’s only just started.

Even though she’s his best friend, Keiji thinks there’s a lot of things he doesn’t know about Mai.

The song ends abruptly and on a terrible note that makes him wince when she spots him standing there staring. “Aka-kun,” she says, though it’s not a greeting. If anything, she sounds confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I was practicing with Yumi before rehearsal.” They’re so far apart he has to raise his voice a bit so she can hear him, which he’d rather not do, so he settles on following her up on the small hill. When they’re finally in proper speaking range, he continues, “I wasn’t aware you’re playing the flute now.”

Mai furrows her brows and shakes her head. “You weren’t supposed to. Nobody’s here at this time so I thought I could practice outside for once … And now you ruined the surprise. I was going to show you and Teru-kun when I’m kinda good at it.”

That explains why she didn’t say anything. Keiji glances at the flute – it’s white gold and pretty, well-polished and shining in the morning light. He’s never seen one in this colour, so it’s either very expensive or custom-made in some way. It’s definitely no real gold, but it makes his own, boring, silver one pale in comparison. “Since when have you been practicing?”

“I got it just before our last practice camp, but I haven’t had much time to actually do anything with it. I’ve been mostly using my free time when I wasn’t busy babysitting you.”

“ _Babysitting_?”

“I mean, someone has to make sure you’re not going to die.”

“Why would I die?”

“I don’t put it past Oikawa-san.” Keiji shoots her a glare and she gets the hint, but the grin on her face doesn’t disappear. “Sorry, sorry. I know I’m being harsh.”

Even though he’d love for her to forgive him, he knows it’s not that easy. That’s not what Mai is like. They’re alike in many ways, those two, perhaps too much so – stubborn and intense and with a very similar feeling of ‘I’m right’ in whichever given situation.

He almost wants to laugh. It feels like he’s the catalyst of their argument, which might have never surfaced had he never fallen in love with Tooru or become friends with Mai. He can’t say what would have happened if he hadn’t been there, but for someone so involved in all of it, it’s frustrating how he can’t do anything to change it; rather they’re the ones changing around him all the time, a river parted by a boulder.

Which … Would mean that it’ll eventually wear him down so much it’ll grind him into dust given enough time, so maybe the boulder is a bad metaphor in this case. He’s accepted this at this point, and he honestly can’t see it grow too out of hand, not anymore. If it stays as snarky comments and jabs at each other he can live with it.

“And what’re you thinking about?”

He snaps out of his stream of thought and when he looks at Mai again, she has an eyebrow raised and is still (or once again?) smiling. “Nothing important,” he says.

“Liar,” she sing-songs, drawing out the note to a ridiculous degree like she just wants to prove she has great lung capacity.

“How are you supposed to know?” Unless she’s suddenly turned into a mind-reader, he’d have thought his emotions didn’t display so clearly on his face.

“Because,” she leans forward to poke his cheek, “you fiddle with your hands whenever you’re in deep thought about something you care about. Don’t tell me you never noticed.”

“I what?” No, he did not, in fact, ever notice that, but when he looks down at his hands, he sees them intertwined even though he was certain he didn’t do anything.

Mai laughs, loud and clear, and switches from poking his cheek to pinching it and pulling it up to force a smile out of him. He lets her, because frankly, he’s still a bit shocked. “You do it all the time. It’s probably a subconscious thing if you really didn’t know.”

Well, that explains why people have a good track record of figuring out what he’s thinking about. The more he considers the rest of the semester, the more sense it makes – and here he thought his poker face wasn’t as good as he always thought or got told when in reality it was something completely different giving him away.

In a surprise move, Mai lets her head drop onto his shoulder. Or at least that’s what he assumes she’s trying to do, she’s so tiny she’s more leaning against his arm than anything else. “I wonder if I have something like that too.”

“I never noticed anything,” Keiji says truthfully. She may have a lot of secrets behind that smile, but nothing giving her away. Except for that one time she sent him those song lyrics without any explanation. What was that … _Did those birds not break free / to feel the wind in their wings?_

It didn’t feel like it was meant for him. Who did she write it for? Hitoka, perhaps?

When they’re like this, it feels like he still has an eternity to ask her.

They stay there in silence until they have to leave for rehearsal.

 

* * *

 

“What is _that_?” Keiji asks, despite knowing very well what it is.

Terushima is holding a violin that’s lacking a few strings out to him as if the mere presence of someone able to play it could fix it.

“A violin,” he says.

He can see that, but why did he bring a violin to practice? They don’t have time to play around. Rehearsal is about to start in five minutes, provided Nekomata isn’t late, and they’re already sitting at their usual places just waiting for him. After talking to Mai, he managed to get into the right mindset for weekend rehearsal until his friend pulled this out on him.

“That’s a violin alright,” Tooru agrees with a nod, looking over Terushima’s shoulder.

“Neither of you are helping me.”

“My sister found this behind a shelf when she was looking for some books yesterday and it’s too nice to just throw it away, so I was hoping you could help me.” Okay, that’s an explanation, they’re making progress.

He’s very sceptical of what kind of ‘help’ Terushima is asking for though.

“If you want me to fix it, I can’t, sorry. But there’s someone in the music shop—”

“No, I mean, help me learn how to play it!”

Oh dear. That’s what he feared.

He pinches the bridge of his nose trying to come up with an answer, but all he gets out of thinking about it is _First Mai with the flute, now you with the violin, are there any more amateurs looking to learn a new instrument I should know about?_ But he can’t betray Mai like that after accidentally busting her surprise, so what he ends up saying instead is, “Look, I would love to, but I really don’t have the time. And I’m not a good teacher to begin with.”

“And if you taught Teru-chan, you’d totally have to teach me too,” Tooru adds very unhelpfully. “I asked you first.”

“Again, I’m not doing that. Now could we please focus on the things that are actually important at the moment?”

Something like this is more of a Bokuto move than a Terushima one. He’s beginning to suspect those two have been talking a lot more recently.

“But ‘kaash!” Terushima whines and moves in to dramatically hug him, but Keiji pushes him away, only earning another whine. “You’re so cold!”

“I’m being responsible, since you are apparently incapable of doing that yourself,” he shuts him down and points at the violin. “Now put that away. You won’t need it for rehearsal.”

Futakuchi, who is walking by with a stack of paper Keiji assumes he was going to put on the shelf in his hands, stops and stares at the instrument for a moment. “I mean, it’d be a cool prop.”

Terushima beams at him. “See? This is a guy who gets me. Love ya, Kenji!” He blows a kiss at him and Futakuchi returns the motion. Tooru glances at Keiji with a face that indicates he’s about to do the same, but an unimpressed glare is enough to make that expression turn into a pout. Honestly, at this point he just wants to focus on rehearsal.

Fortunately for him, Nekomata enters the room at just the right time and the casual chatter that has been hanging over the room immediately calms down. Futakuchi winces and hurries to drop the papers off at the shelf before bolting back to his seat, and Terushima shoves the violin under his chair.

It only takes one look at Nekomata’s face to know why everyone’s suddenly so complacent.

After almost a semester of having him as his choir director, Keiji has come to learn a few of his faces. There’s the competitive glint in his eyes, the same he has on the old recordings of piano competitions that first introduced Keiji to the world of competitive music, whenever he sees potential in them or has made progress. There’s the slightly worried raise of the eyebrow when they don’t seem to get something right.

And there’s this: the wide, absolutely terrifying smile of sheer joy.

It’s in that moment that he realises Tooru wasn’t exaggerating when he said this is going to be worse than expected.

 

* * *

 

They’ve moved from their usual room to the main stage of the school, which in itself wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that there’s no chairs here and sitting down on the floor has been strictly forbidden.

The actual rehearsal isn’t different from what it always is, except with more moving around on the stage and trying out a few tiny differences in formation to fit their environment better, but what’s fine to handle in their normal practice time turns into a complete chore that makes him long for a break or an deregistration from the school. Which, again, wouldn’t be that much of a problem, he knows this from practice camp, actually practice camp may have been even harder on them since they were working on their movement and fitness as well …

But doing all of that without the opportunity to sit down even once over the course of several hours?

_Curse you, Nekomata-san._

Maybe if it was more interesting, if they could mix it up a bit so it’s less repetitive, he wouldn’t mind this as much, but that’s not what this is about. This is about shaping what they have to something as close to perfection as they can manage, and that’s never fun.

Many things are swirling around Keiji’s brain and all of them are some variation of _why_. Why do they have to work so hard on those concert songs? Why has he not quit yet? Why is Nekomata not giving them even the slightest bit of leeway when he’s usually a fairly reasonable person? Just, in general, _why_?

Oh, he’s going to kill Tooru for making him join this choir. It may not have been on purpose but it was all his fault anyway. And while he’s at it, he’s going to kill Terushima too for dragging him along, because when he thinks about it, it’s actually more Terushima’s fault than Tooru’s. Also he’s standing right next to him so he’ll be easier to reach. Maybe he can smash that violin over his head or something.

They’ve been practicing with the piano and with the instrumental versions of songs, but this time around they actually have a band. Keiji knows none of the members and they don’t seem to talk much, but they look about as enthusiastic about this as he’s feeling, which is to say not at all. Regardless, their play is flawless, because of course it is. That, too, pisses him off.

His feet hurt and the songs all blend into one another and he wants to go home.

“You’re losing focus,” Nekomata says in between songs. His earlier smile has made way for something more serious, maybe even awe-inspiring, that is if this was any other situation than it actually is. Right now he just wants him to call it quits for today. They’ll do the same damn thing tomorrow, too. “Mezzo soprano especially. Just because you’re support for this song doesn’t mean you can slack off.”

He sneaks a glance at the mezzo soprano section and sees Ikari practically seething. If he was standing next to her, he’d probably stake a step back out of fear to get burned by the flames her entire aura is emanating right now. She may be a generally terrible person, but he has to agree with her attitude this time around.

Finally, after what feels like a millennium, Nekomata calls a thirty minute break and Keiji nearly sits down on the floor right here right now, but before he can even consider the possibility, Terushima grabs his wrist and drags him from the stage toward the audience.

“Look, ‘kaash!” he exclaims, rejuvenated by the break, and points his free hand at the back row. “That’s where we met!”

“I know that.” He didn’t pay much attention to it though. Now, however, he kind of gets what his friend is getting at – thinking about them performing in the same place he first saw them sing sends shivers down his spine. It feels like they’ve come much further than it seems.

If nothing else, they had water to drink in between songs, so he’s not thirsty, and as he’s pushed down on the very seat he sat on that day, a content sigh escapes from his lips.

Thank god. They can actually _sit_.

Terushima drops down next to him and gives him a wide grin. “I still remember it like it was yesterday … I kept thinking ‘hey, I know that dude’, but it took me an age to remember from where.”

Right, that was a thing. Terushima recognised him from his solo with Fukurodani last year. “I wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t known me at all.”

His friend hums and cocks his head, thinking. After a moment, he says, “Probably the same thing. At least after I saw you stare at Oikawa.”

“San,” he adds out of habit.

“Why do you care? He’s your boyfriend!”

“Yes, and I want my boyfriend to be respected.”

“I guess,” Terushima admits defeat – a rare sight to see. Maybe this rehearsal is taking more of a toll on him than Keiji realised. “Anyway … It’s pretty cool. I only wanted to check out the choir because I thought it’d be nice, and now I have great friends and a boyfriend and even a song.”

He almost doesn’t dare ask, but he _needs_ to know or this’ll drive him insane. “By ‘boyfriend’, you mean Futakuchi?”

He looks at him like he just asked him whether grass is green. “Sure. Who else?”

“I don’t understand it,” Keiji mutters and narrows his eyes at him, slightly shaking his head. “I just don’t get your relationship at all.”

“What’s not to get?”

Is he doing this on purpose? Is he unaware of how confusing this whole thing is to outsiders? Or is Keiji just denser than originally assumed?

“You know what, never mind. I’m happy for you either way.”

Terushima positively beams. “Thanks! I’m happy for you too. Uh, by the way, mind telling me when exactly you two got together?”

He doesn’t like the sound of this. “Why would you need to know?”

“Just for personal data.”

Oh, yes, he absolutely has to be afraid. Still, there’s no reason to withhold it from him.

“At the Midsummer Market. The Thursday before I told you.”

“The Market … That’s … Oh goddamn it.” He pulls a face and glances over at the stage. “Guess I owe Kenji 500 yen. I was so sure it was at the practice camp …”

“You _bet_ on me?” Keiji isn’t sure why he’s surprised. This sounds like a very Terushima thing to do. That’s probably why his outrage is only half-serious – especially since his friend has to pay.

“No, actually, we bet on Oikawa … Uh, Oikawa-san. Kenji said I’d have an advantage if we bet on when you’d confess, because we’re best friends and all.”

“Who else was in on this?” he manages to ask.

“Hold on, that was … Me and Kenji, and … Sawamura, Yumi, Tashiro …”

“ _Tashiro-san_?”

“Yeah, and … Oh, and Semi too. I asked Mai but she just said she wanted him to never confess, so I didn’t count that. We left Bokuto out of it, he was having enough trouble keeping the secret to himself, and … That’s everyone, I think!” The proud look on his face would be adorable in any other situation. He may look like an accomplished puppy right now but he sure as hell isn’t acting like one.

“Unbelievable.” He sinks back into his seat and sighs. “I can’t believe you.”

“If it helps, everyone else was way off. Semi said he thought he already confessed a long time ago and you rejected him.”

The idea of rejecting Tooru makes him laugh quietly to himself. In the beginning, perhaps, when he wasn’t sure what to make of him, but after that? No way.

“Soo …” Terushima starts again and leans forward to look at him from an angle that’s apparently supposed to be cute. “How about those violin lessons?”

“Like I said, I’m not giving anyone violin lessons.”

“Boo. But you’re so good at it!”

“I have enough on my plate as is.” Speaking of the violin, he’s only just getting started to properly learn _Butterfly Rite_. The examination is in a few weeks still, during their break, but he has to work at a good pace or else he’ll fail completely.

Come to think of it …

That song was given to him by Terushima’s grandmother, who just wanted someone to play it so it could live on. Keiji is doing his hardest to do it justice, and yet …

If that person, the one to carry it to another generation, was her grandson, that’d surely mean the world to both of them.

He eyes his friend suspiciously, trying to find a hint of insincerity, but he only looks like he really wants to learn. Whether it’s for his own personal gain or for another reason like that doesn’t matter all that much, as long as he knows that he’s serious about this.

Oh, damn it. What is it with Terushima Yuuji and dragging him into situations he doesn’t want to be in?

Then again, if it turns out like the last time he did that – even if it’s just a fraction as wonderful – he can spare a few more hours of free time and sanity.

“Although, I suppose I can try and see what I can do after the concert. But don’t expect much.”

 

* * *

 

It’s getting dark earlier now.

Or maybe they’ve just spent so much time rehearsing that his sense of time is warped, but he swears that just a few weeks ago, when he came home at a similar time the sun wasn’t setting quite yet. It’s nice, though, that warm red light falling through the windows of the train as they speed over the tracks. Keiji doesn’t usually listen to music on the way home, but today his headphones are blaring a rock ballad by Cassiopeia he found he liked after listening to it again. Back at the concert, his mind was elsewhere and he couldn’t focus on the music, but now it’s providing a great distraction from the same songs he’s heard all day.

By the end of it, they were only polishing their steps as to not overexert their voices, but it’s still too much singing in one day to ever be enjoyable. He’s absolutely going to hear all these songs in his nightmares.

Keiji kind of hoped Tooru would drive him again, but he’s in about as terrible a state as the rest of them (minus Sawamura, who seems to have the whole ‘regulating your exertion’ part down to an incredible degree, and perhaps Terushima) and even if he had brought up the idea, Keiji would have shut him down. No way he’s sitting in a car driven by someone half asleep. He did make sure he actually went to bed though rather than stay up again to text him or play the piano.

Thinking of Tooru makes him think of Ushijima, too. He did say he was fine now, but knowing that guy, he’ll probably be watching him at the concert or, at the very least, the competition.

He’s not quite sure what to think of him. He clearly has no malicious intent, but the more he thinks about it, the more he feels like he should just leave Tooru alone after being told off so many times. It’s got to be mentally taxing for him too to keep being worried about this.

And of course, there’s the other people he’ll meet there too. He’ll have to introduce Tooru to his mother, something he’s not looking forward to. Not because he fears they won’t get along, but rather because he’s certain they’ll get along far too well. And then there’s Tooru’s sister, and his friend Iwaizumi plus that boyfriend he really doesn’t like …

He can’t even imagine what it’d be like if one of those people who are so important to him were to reject him.

Tooru did say they’d probably get along, but despite everything, he’s still so very different from what he could have. Heck, he still doesn’t know the most basic things about the city he lives in, he’s not a huge talker, and he gets insecure about stupid things.

… Like this thing. This is a stupid thing he’s getting insecure about. He knows Tooru loves him, why is he wondering about this again? There’s no need to. He’s being an idiot.

There are more important things to worry about than this, like Terushima’s newfound admiration for the violin, tomorrow’s rehearsal, and, of course, the looming concert and competition, and that’s not even mentioning the exams. Rumour has it it’s going to be much worse in the second semester, so he’s not looking forward to that either, but for now he thinks he’ll pass just fine. He doesn’t need to be perfect after all, though that is what he strives for, as always. What was that, shoot for the moon and even if you miss you’ll still land among the stars?

Although that’d either mean floating in lightyears of vacuum or burning on the surface of a massive ball of gas, and that’s only two ways in which space can kill you. Black holes, planets with a poisonous atmosphere, being crashed into by a meteor, aliens …

That reminds him, Tooru did talk about being an alien at the practice camp. Even though that’s not true (?), of course, he wants to believe that there are nice aliens too. They’re likely nothing like humans imagine them, but if they were, he’d appreciate a species full of Akikos. Plush filling and all.

The thought puts a smile on his face and it doesn’t disappear when he gazes out of the window, watching the world pass him by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> those space metaphors ... Tooru's rubbing off on you, huh?


	39. A Celebration for the Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that concert is gonna be one hell of a meet-up.
> 
> the [Oikawa side story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12471472/chapters/32184996) is out now ~ it's mostly fill-up with a few scenes rewritten from Tooru's perspective and a few added ones, but maybe it's nice to have anyway. speaking of Toorurun, he's really not having it easy right now, huh. I mean, it could be worse. like it's certainly going to be on that goddamn concert.
> 
> yay, two not-quite new characters °^°)/ I wanted to wait to introduce the latter one as a surprise visit at the concert but decided against it because it's way more dramatic this way.
> 
> on an unrelated note, I've been on a Noru Chara buying spree ... I bought both Akaashi and Oikawa and then I got myself an Osamu too! Atsumu was out of stock so his brother's gonna have to wait until he's back. I'm sure he appreciates the peace and quiet. recently Tsumu has risen in my ranking so the Miyas now sharing third place on my list of fav hq characters before everything dissolves into a mess of "I LOVE EVERYONE" (1 is Tanaka and 2 is Ushiwaka btw). guess you really can't have one without the other. that doesn't mean they'll show up tho. they might in the pseudo-sequel, but who knows.
> 
> the title is ... part of the title of that obnoxious piece Keiji has to play. part of it because the actual name has more shit to it. yknow, stuff like "Rondo alla ingharese quasi un capriccio" in G major, Op. 129. (which is one of my favourite classical pieces please listen to it)
> 
> also I've had this chapter done since like 3pm today but I waited to post it because it's tRADITION to post these after midnight. it's just what I do

Mondays are terrible enough on their own.

Most people hate Mondays for obvious reasons of having to start another week of work or school, Keiji’s piano teacher for his Monday lessons has recently taken maternity leave and been replaced by a really strict old man he can never please no matter how well he plays, of course there’s the whole business of having eight to six straight plus choir at the end …

Now take that and multiply it by lack of sleep and your entire body feeling like someone ran it over with a bulldozer.

Sunday practice was more of the same, except with a bigger focus on choreography, which meant they were all dead and tired by the end of it, and it turns out that moving so much leads to very sore muscles. He contemplated just staying in bed all day but his sense of responsibility got the better of him. Curse that sense of responsibility.

Keiji has half a mind to crash in Mai’s or Tooru’s room during lunch break but he’d just be hurting someplace else then, which doesn’t fix his problem. He doubts he could even sleep. What might help would be someone carrying him everywhere so his legs can rest … Where’s Bokuto when you need him?

Instead he hurries to get something to eat from the cafeteria as quickly as possible before heading off to the library. There’s a certain piece his annoying new piano teacher wants him to play that he’s never heard of before, but apparently they have the sheet music. It’s an old song with a title in a language he doesn’t speak – he had to write it down to even remember what he’s looking for – and something about everything that led up to this moment tells him he’s not going to like it. At least he has something more pleasant for his actual recital.

The library is crowded but quiet, as it usually is. Apparently the shelf he’s looking for his hidden in some corner he’s never been in, far away from the tables and windows and brightly painted walls and pretty much everything nice, because of course it is. How depressing.

A few minutes of looking later he realises he’s on the entirely wrong floor.

Keiji can’t even be bothered to sigh.

Alright, all the way back to the main area it is, and then up the stairs. It’s a part of the library he’s actually never been on, plainly because he never needed to, but he’s pleasantly surprised when he finds the stairwell to be quite nice; it’s big and there’s little angel statues sitting on the railing.

Even though Karasuno has really good funding, he never found this place to be palatial in any way. He knows quite a few schools that would have gone that route, but the fact that it looks mostly normal is something he always kind of took for granted, yet looking at that staircase somehow reminds him of it. They could have done so much more with it, but they didn’t. It makes him feel like he wants to stand here and look at it for a while.

And that’s not, of course, because he wants to avoid using these stairs with his body hurting like this for as long as possible. That’d be a preposterous idea.

He hears footsteps echo through the room before he sees the person coming downstairs – until they suddenly stop in the middle of the staircase and Keiji finds himself being thoroughly stared at.

For a moment, he assumes he’s been too obvious in his sudden strange fascination for a notoriously unassuming staircase, but then he recognises the person currently looking at him.

He’s muscular, with spiky black hair and the kind of face that always looks a bit angry even when it’s not meant to. It’s the same person he saw on a certain photo what feels like an eternity ago, but even though it’s been so long, he’d never forget him. That person with his arm around Tooru’s shoulder on their photo from school – his childhood best friend.

(Of course, the fact that he’s wearing a jersey from the national volleyball team is also a dead giveaway, but Keiji swears that’s not it.)

Iwaizumi Hajime speaks before he can find a chance to. “Hey, you’re … Sorry if I’m wrong, but you’re Akaashi Keiji, right?”

It takes him a second to remember that Tooru mentioned how Iwaizumi blocked him because he was getting annoyed of him talking about Keiji. He can only reason said talking about him also included pictures … Or extremely detailed descriptions. He can’t decide which one would be cuter.

“Yes,” is what he ends up saying. “Iwaizumi-san, I assume?”

Something lights up on Iwaizumi’s face, a familiar expression he recognises as _oh thank god, we can skip the introductions_ , and he comes down the stairs so they can speak in their indoor voices. Almost shouting at people on a higher elevation than him seems to be a theme lately. “Yeah. Nice to finally meet ya. Oikawa talks about you a lot.”

If ‘a lot’ is enough to warrant temporary ignoring, he should probably tell him to dial it down a bit. Then again, it paints a smile on his face nonetheless. “I’m sorry for that. Are you looking for him?”

Iwaizumi crosses his arms and turns to look at an empty spot somewhere next to them. “Nah, not yet anyway.” He looks at Keiji again and, very sincerely, asks, “Have you seen a certain guy in an Aoba Johsai uniform around? Tall, black hair that looks like a turnip, constantly looking confused. I lost him on my way to the library and I don’t trust his sense of directions.”

“Uhm … Not that I can remember, sorry.” He has a vague idea of what that uniform is supposed to look like, but he doesn’t think he’s seen anyone wearing one. “If he wasn’t with you when you came to the library, he probably isn’t here.”

“I guess, but I don’t have any other lead. He just wandered off by himself.” Iwaizumi sighs and shakes his head. “He’s my boyfriend’s classmate who wants to go into music therapy, so he wanted to take a look around, but I hardly know him, so I’ve got no idea what he’s like and why he’d leave my side in the first place. I just took him along because it was convenient.”

“He must have been distracted by something then.” That’s a bit worrying. This campus is confusing enough when you’re going here, but for first-time visitors it’s a whole different beast. “Do you have his phone number?”

“No. Tobio doesn’t have it either, so I can’t ask him.”

How unfortunate. Tobio, he assumes, is his boyfriend … Hold on, he’s heard that name before. Tobio, Tobio … Right, Iwaizumi’s boyfriend who Tooru really doesn’t like for some reason. A volleyball player, if he remembers correctly. Damn it, he wouldn’t know a thing about this anyway, so no need to pursue that line of thinking.

“If he’s a former kouhai of yours, do you think Tooru could know something?”

Iwaizumi stares at him for a second, blinking as if he’d just said something earth-shattering. _Don’t tell me he didn’t even consider that._ When he speaks up, though, his words are completely different from what he expected. “Wow, it’s been a while since I heard anyone call Oikawa that.”

“Is that so?” He doesn’t really know what else to say. It’s a good point though – aside from Tachibana, who he’s pretty sure nobody could stop from calling people whatever she wants, he hasn’t heard anyone say it.

Nowadays it doesn’t feel strange anymore, in fact it’d probably be weird to go back to calling him ‘Oikawa-san’, so it’s easy to forget just how special it truly is. It shows how close they’ve been for a while now.

After that concert, everything started falling together.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, then shakes his head when he remembers what they were originally talking about. “I don’t think so though. I know they used to get along, but I’m pretty sure they’re not in contact anymore.”

‘I’m pretty sure’ sounds more like an excuse. Before he knows what he’s doing, Keiji says, “Do you even want to find him?”

He regrets it not one second later. What was he thinking? He can’t just say things like that when he hardly knows this person. Are his friends finally rubbing off on him for good?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

To his surprise, Iwaizumi just sighs. “Honestly, I’m not sure myself. He’s a good enough guy, he just … Has a tendency to get into trouble. From what I’ve heard, at least. Still, that’s exactly why I have to look for him.”

“I suppose.” He can agree with this guy’s sense of morals. Perhaps they would make for good friends after all.

“Well then, I’ve gotta go, I guess. If you see him, tell him to come to … Actually, no.” Iwaizumi reaches into the pocket of his sweater and pulls out his phone. “Just text me.”

Keiji stares at the device for a moment.

Even though he’s Tooru’s best friend, this person is still a stranger to him. Exchanging phone numbers at this stage seems a bit much. Then again, it’s for the greater good, so who is he to question it?

It’ll make for something nice to tell his boyfriend if nothing else.

 

* * *

 

“Iwa-chan is here?”

Today is the day of running into people you didn’t expect to run into. Occasion two: Oikawa Tooru in the audio design building of all places. Keiji can only guess what he’s doing here, as he doubts this conversation will lead there anytime soon, but he knows that neither of them are here to actually use the equipment or study. Personally, he just wanted to copy the sheet music since the copiers in the library all come with long queues of impatient students waiting for their turn and this was the nearest alternative.

In the copying room, though, he managed to meet Tooru, just sitting there scrolling through something on his phone. If he had to guess, he’d say he’s waiting for a professor or someone of the like.

Not that any of that matters now that he mentioned meeting Iwaizumi.

The look on Tooru’s face is adorable as all hell – he can practically see him sparkling with excitement. “I mean, he did say he’d be coming in the next few days, but I didn’t think— And he didn’t even tell me!”

“I’m sure he would have if he’d had the time.” He guesses it was meant to be a surprise rather than a preannounced thing. It’s how Keiji would do it, anyway.

“What’s he so busy with?” Tooru leans back against his chair and pulls a disgusted face. “Tobio-chan? Probably Tobio-chan. Ugh. Now that ruined my mood.”

So he was right about Tobio being that boyfriend then. It’s been a while since he last mentioned it, so he should probably be proud of remembering something that seemed this trivial. “What’s so bad about him? If Iwaizumi-san is happy, you should be happy for him.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He lets his head fall back and stares at the ceiling with a small pout on his lips. “Just wish it could’ve been literally anyone else.”

Is this another Ushijima situation where there’s more to this than meets the eye? Tooru sure lives a difficult life.

Keiji decides he probably won’t get to copying this sheet music anytime soon and sits down next to him, who immediately shifts his position so he’s leaning against him. “It should’ve been someone less annoying.”

“You called me annoying too.”

“Your annoying is a different annoying. The superior annoying. The best kind of annoying there could be …” He looks up at him with a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Even though it may just be pettiness, he genuinely looks down, and as his boyfriend, Keiji’s obligated to make him feel better. Those are just the rules. He prefers him with a smile. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

Tooru sighs. “There’s nothing _to_ say. I just don’t like him. He’s a volleyball genius but a complete idiot when it comes to everything else, and Iwa-chan deserves better than that. I wanted for the person to take my best friend away from me to be someone, like … All amazing and stuff.”

Take him away? Oh, he knows what he’s hearing there. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not!” He has to hand it to him, his tone of voice almost makes it sound true. Perhaps that’s what he believes himself or he’s just playing up his acting talent. “It’s just, Iwa-chan’s like my brother. We pretty much grew up together. I’m not letting myself get replaced as his favourite person by someone like Tobio!”

It doesn’t seem like he’s understanding what he’s saying. “You’re jealous,” Keiji repeats. “That’s jealousy.”

“Noo,” he whines, but it’s lost its impact. After a moment, he sighs again, and this time it sounds somewhat accepting. “Okay fine, I’m jealous. But I wouldn’t be if it was someone else. If it was … I don’t know, a movie star or someone.”

“Your standards are way too high.”

“He deserves the best!” He stops and looks at Keiji for a moment, then narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “The second best. I’ve already got the best. Is there another one of you around? A secret twin? A clone?”

He’s not going to remind him that he is not, in fact, a movie star or anything of the like, not when he’s blushing as badly as he is right now. Damn Tooru for being cute. “No, I’m sorry. But for him, maybe that Tobio person is the best. Besides …”

“Besides?”

He doesn’t really know how to word what he’s trying to say. He has a vague idea of it, but the problem is how to relay it. Maybe … “I don’t think that has anything to do with how he sees you.” No, that’s not quite right. “I mean, consider … I love you. And I love Bokuto-san and Terushima and Mai just as much, but in a different way. I couldn’t call any one of you my ‘favourite person’. You’re all important to me. I’m sure Iwaizumi-san thinks the same way about you and Tobio.”

Tooru just looks at him and for a second he thinks he’s said something wrong, until he quietly hums and furrows his eyebrows as if he’s just now considering this. “Good point.”

This conversation doesn’t feel finished, but before he can continue, a man walks into the room and says, “Sorry for making you wait, Oikawa-kun. I’d have time now.”

Keiji doesn’t recognise him as one of their professors, but that may just be because there’s a lot of them here. Considering the building he’s in, it kind of makes sense. Either way he looks like he belongs to the staff, if he’s been waiting for Tooru. Or, well, making Tooru wait for him.

“Alright then,” Tooru says and stands up, shooting Keiji a smile. “See you … Uh, later?”

Sure, why not. “After school in your dorm room?”

“Gotcha!” And then he’s gone, though not after quickly blowing him a kiss that should not make him blush as hard as it does. Damn this sap of a person.

He hopes he helped him somehow. Keiji knows well how it feels like to be left behind – or to be the one doing the leaving behind. His problems with Bokuto were fixed so quickly though, he thinks it may just be paranoia. It certainly is in Tooru’s case; Iwaizumi didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d give up on a friend for romance.

At least he’ll get to copy this damn sheet music now. Maybe he can ask Tooru to go over with it later. Considering how annoying that teacher is, he probably should, if only to get a second opinion. He knows he’s better than his boyfriend, but he may have some learning tips.

And if not he’ll just spend it cuddling or doing something else. Maybe teach him some more things about the rhythm game. He’s miraculously managing to stay on a good rank in the event right now, which he’s disproportionately proud of. Turns out his time management skills come in handy for the less important things too.

Right now, though, it feels like so much is going on it’s a miracle he’s even getting to play.

 

* * *

 

This is the most terrible thing. The absolute worst timing he has ever seen.

“You,” he says sharply to his keyboard. “What’s your problem? Right _now_?”

If there’s one thing he cannot afford right now, it’s for his instruments to break, so of course it’d happen. This stupid thing just isn’t turning on. He’s tried everything.

It’s a rather old model that he’s had for a while, so it’s not all that surprising it’d die eventually, but just yesterday it was still working fine. He can’t afford a new one right now and if he’s going to invest in an instrument, he’d rather it be an actual piano anyway, but how is he supposed to practice if his damn keyboard isn’t working?

It means spending more time at Karasuno, he supposes, but that’s suboptimal too. At this time of year – according to almost everyone he’s talked to recently – most free to use instruments are usually taken, some pre-reserved even. Besides, he enjoys playing in the comfort of his own apartment, and it’s throwing a wrench into his neatly planned schedule too. If he’ll have any luck at Karasuno it’s probably going to be during the late evening and night when he’d much prefer to be going home instead.

He considers throwing this thing against the wall and see if that makes it work again like the alarm clock he once dropped, but on the off chance it can be fixed, that’d certainly destroy that opportunity.

Damn it, now he really needs that job at the theatre, which he still hasn’t had time to talk about. At this rate, it’ll be too late. He could ask his mother for money and she’d probably give him some but he really doesn’t want to do that, their finances have always been rather tight and he doesn’t want to make that more difficult.

But he’s going to need something. No two ways around it.

Keiji throws his head back and sighs. What terrible, terrible timing. Couldn’t have been worse, really. Didn’t he think just a few days ago that things were going well for once? He’s got to stop jinxing himself.

No matter what’s going to come out of it, he’ll have to check out the music store. Perhaps they have something used he can actually afford, or they’ll let him practice there if he begs hard enough.

“This is the worst,” he mutters to nobody in particular. Yesterday was nice, he ended up spending time with both Tooru and Sawamura in the latter’s room playing Mario Kart – not the most productive thing to do but he won most of the races so it doesn’t matter. Tooru is still terrible at video games. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen anyone fall off the stage as often as his boyfriend yesterday. It’s adorable in its own way, but he’ll never let him live it down.

So of course something like this had to happen. Can’t have him be too happy, right, fate? How rude.

It’s just past seven, so he does have enough time to go to the city right now. Keiji isn’t exactly sure what he’s looking for, but perhaps there’ll be a miracle thrown his way. Or a piano. He’s not picky.

It’s pretty cold outside again, so he gets to wear Tooru’s cardigan again. Any excuse to do that is a good one, he’s grown really attached to that thing. But if these kinds of temperatures are rolling in in September already, he doesn’t want to know how cold it’ll get during winter.

The bus ride to the city centre is a short one and even though he still doesn’t know a lot about this place, he’s starting to find his way around the most important landmarks at least. It’s by no means a big city, but there’s a lot of stuff around nonetheless, and he thinks he once saw a newspaper article proclaiming their shopping street to be one of the best in Japan. He’d believe it; it’s all in one place and there’s pretty much everything you could ask for.

He hasn’t actually been to the music store much, since there was no need, but he remembers its placement from the Midsummer Market, so he finds it quickly. It’s a pretty big store with two stories, chock-full with instruments he probably can’t afford.

If he just had a way to get his e-piano from home … If this doesn’t work out, he may have to ask Tooru to help him out with his car. Though it probably wouldn’t even fit. They could rent something … Which is also less than ideal.

Terushima should take his violin here to get it repaired so they can start the lessons once he has time. He still has no idea how he got roped into that. He’s too easily influenced, god damn it.

“Welcome!”

The voice is strange – high-pitched and loud but lacking volume anyway, like its owner is trying to be assertive but failing miserably. He looks around for a few seconds before he finds out where it came from.

There’s a tiny girl standing behind the counter. Her short blonde hair is tied up in a small side-ponytail and she’s so short he didn’t even notice her when he came in.

He feels a little bit bad about asking her anything. She’s clearly overwhelmed just by being here. She is, however, the only staff member he can see upon skimming the shop. _Sorry._

Keiji walks up to the counter and tries to come across as as harmless as possible, with a soft smile and his voice kept low. “I’m sorry, can you help me? I’m looking for a keyboard, preferably a used one.”

“K-keyboard!” she repeats and turns to the computer by her side. “Right! Uhm!”

Dear god, this is terrible to look at. Even though she’s probably his age if she’s working here, she looks so much younger he can’t help but want to protect her. Perhaps friendly conversation can help? “This is a nice store. Have you been working here for long?”

She flinches and shoots him an apologetic smile that looks like she’s about to cry. “This is … This is my first day, actually … I only just moved here …”

“If that’s the case, don’t worry if you can’t help me.” No wonder she’s overwhelmed.

“No, I’m gonna!” she says with just the slightest hint of determination on her face. “I’m gonna be useful! Mai always said if I try hard enough, I’m sure to succeed!”

Hold on.

Mai?

No, this is just a coincidence. This girl just said she only moved here recently, there’s no way she knows Nametsu Mai. It’s not an uncommon name. To be fair, Mai and Tooru did both go to high school pretty far away – though not so far Mai can’t go home occasionally …

Damn it, now he’s curious.

“That’s a coincidence,” he starts, carefully. “One of my best friends is named Mai too.”

“Oh, really?” She’s slowly but surely lighting up more, so at least he’s doing that right. “Mai is one of my best friends. We used to go to high school together! Now she’s going to Karasuno so I thought I wouldn’t see her again, but now that we moved I might have a chance.”

Mai at Karasuno. There’s no way this is his Mai. There’s got to be another Mai.

“I’m going to Karasuno too.”

“That’s so cool! Maybe we’re talking about the same Mai? Nametsu Mai?”

Well. There’s that. What kind of day is this? “We are. We’re in choir together, actually. What’s your name? She might have told me about you.”

All traces of nervousness are gone from the girl’s face and she smiles brightly when she says, “Yachi Hitoka! Nice to meet you!”

Hitoka.

Mai’s friend Hitoka. Tooru’s ex-girlfriend whom he hurt so badly Hitoka. Now that she’s here, she’ll most likely come to the concert if she knows Mai is singing there. And she lives nearby now, working in the only instrument store in the city, the one all three of them are going to frequent sooner or later.

Suddenly this entire situation feels like a bomb ready to go off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you said it, Keiji. you said it.


	40. Glass Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, this chapter was a bitch to write. but the next ones ... ooooh dear. we're slowly but surely heading for the end. (//quietly crying in the background)
> 
> the girl in the workshop is based on one of my fanteam characters, she's not important at all but I wanted to at least mention the workshop just to have it established and she just kinda ... appeared. huh.
> 
> despite this having taken really long to write, I don't have much to say about this chapter tbh ... it's mostly setup. and Akateru friendship! yay! °^°)/
> 
> oh and as for the title ... no idea just imagine it played on a radio somewhere in the background someday

He ended up buying the cheapest keyboard they had.

It’s old, run-down, and sounds like someone dropped it more than once, but it works and was affordable and that’s all that matters. Honestly, after running into Yachi, his instrument troubles seemed miniscule anyway.

She’s definitely going to visit the concert. That means she’s going to want to talk to Mai, which in return means that it’s going to be hard to keep either of them away from Tooru since they’re both in his immediate social circle. Even if he managed to do that, it’ll be impossible to keep an eye on them forever with Yachi working at the music store. Plus there’s the whole Bokuroo drama to hopefully wrap up and introductions to several people and Iwaizumi and his boyfriend – and oh god, he just now realises Ushijima is probably going to come as well.

Keiji wants to scream.

He doesn’t, because he’s in the middle of a lecture, but he wishes he could. Instead he’s taken to clenching his pen and doodling on his paper with enough ferocity to almost tear a hole in it. Slowly but surely, the whole thing is looking more blue than white.

Here he thought they were making some progress; Mai’s still being kind of a jerk to Tooru but nowhere near as openly antagonistic and Tooru honestly doesn’t seem to care all that much about her anyway. But throwing Yachi into that equation … That’s just going to complicate everything.

God, he wishes he’d had more time. Couldn’t his have happened a month ago or so? There’s almost no time left until the concert and life is throwing him for a loop right now of all times. Nothing can ever be easy, it seems.

His professor is going on about a topic he can’t muster up the energy to listen to. It’s all revision at this point, so he’s good. In a way that may mean it was for the better he’s thinking about this now rather than when they were actually learning all of these important things, but that’s only a small comfort.

He’d very much appreciate to not have to deal with these things at all. Why did he get involved in all of this? Can he still blame it on Terushima? Probably. Even if not, he absolutely will.

If there’s any upside to this, he can at least say that his life is far from boring. He likes peace and quiet and having things in order but something inside him is telling him that if he didn’t have this chaos, he’d be going crazy too. He’s always been the one to fix his friends’ – mostly Bokuto’s – problems and he likes it that way. It gives him some sense of purpose. Maybe he just wants to feel needed.

Still, he’d rather have that than juggling too many things at once. One has to wonder where exactly in his life he went wrong to get roped up in all of this – at the same time, though, if he’d taken any other past he’d probably have different, equally as aggravating things to deal with. Trouble has a way of finding him, mostly in the shape of people.

He knows he’d feel better if he could listen to this lecture to get his mind off things for a while, but he just cannot. He hears the professor’s words but doesn’t understand them, and after a moment of consideration he flips over the page of his notebook and starts doodling on the next one.

This isn’t the lecture he shares with Watari, but the thought of that alone takes him back and makes him want to draw a penguin again. If Keiji was Watari instead, how would he handle this situation? He’ll never know. They hardly even count as acquaintances, though they do occasionally talk to each other.

If he was someone else …

A good rule of thumb, he finds, is to think ‘what would Bokuto Koutarou do’ and then do the exact opposite. What _would_ Bokuto do? He’d try and get them all to talk to each other, smart enough to figure out this can all be solved with proper communication but too impulsive to realise that with both Tooru and Mai being part of the unfortunate triangle, they’re probably not going to have that. So … Keep them far away from each other? That just circles him back to the start.

Fine, then this approach won’t work. How about … Shirofuku, perhaps. He hasn’t seen her since she graduated high school two years ago but he still remembers her vividly. She was passive, preferring to stand by and watch rather than directly interfere with a situation unless she had to. In that way, he always thought the two of them were similar – except that for some reason it always works out for her but not so much for him. Something about them may just be that fundamentally different.

Mai and Tooru are both out, would be even if they weren’t involved. They’re more alike than they give themselves credit for, which in some situations is more of a curse than a blessing. Maybe they’d get along better if they weren’t so similar. Either way, letting them handle something like this is a recipe for disaster. They’d side with one party and hold a grudge against the others, and they’re both very good at holding grudges.

Then … Miya Atsumu? No, let’s not even go there.

Somehow that makes him think of Ushijima.

He can’t say he knows him well. Heck, there’s more mysteries about him than there are answers. But he’s honest – too honest, perhaps, but honesty is the way to go here. If everyone was just honest about their feelings, this would be so much easier. If Mai could just speak up about how much it hurt her to see Yachi suffering – if he knew if Yachi has forgiven Tooru – if Tooru were to make an effort to apologise …

This shouldn’t be as difficult as it is.

Maybe he should talk to Yachi again. He doesn’t know her shifts or anything, so it’d likely be by chance, but she seems like the most reasonable of the three. If it turns out she’s gotten past everything, that’d likely mean that Mai could as well. As for Tooru … He does owe Yachi an apology, but that shouldn’t be difficult. After all he wrote an entire _song_ for her.

But can he really insert himself into this situation? It’d be better if it was Tooru or Mai. In the end, Keiji doesn’t have a lot to do with it. And then that comes back to if they’re willing to listen … And what it’d do to casually mention that Yachi is here in the first plae.

He quietly grumbles to himself and resists the urge to let his head drop on his desk.

Worrying about this is only distracting him from other, arguably more important things. He still needs to talk to Terushima and Kuroo about their making-Bokuto-jealous plan before the concert, and even though he’s pretty confident by now that he’ll do fine this time around, those fears and memories are still whispering to him in the back of his mind.

It’s annoying to feel this powerless.

No. No, he refuses to just stand around here doing nothing. As soon as this lecture is over, he’ll text Terushima and meet up with him so they can discuss the Bokuroo dilemma. He should still be here, their day ends at the same time even though they usually don’t take the same train home since their buildings are pretty far apart and Keiji ends up missing it by five minutes more often than not.

He’s going to get the things in order that he can get in order right now. Make as much peace of mind as he possibly can, and then surely everything will be okay.

Hopefully.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t get a chance to text Terushima, because Terushima texts him first.

 _u free right now???_ is the message he gets at almost the exact second he steps out of the lecture hall. The amount of question marks is slightly worrying but at least he knows he has time.

_I was about to ask you the same thing. Meet up at the birdcage?_

_sure and then lets go to the city!!_

The city, huh. Does he want to go shopping or something? Keiji doesn’t really need anything, but they could get something to eat, so it’s not a bad idea

Perhaps he chose a bad meeting spot, since the birdcage is quite a bit away from where he’s currently standing, but it was the first thing he could think of so it’s as good as anything.

As soon as he arrives there, he sees his friend waving so intensely he almost hits a girl walking by. “‘kaash!” he yells before running over to Keiji with a smile so big and bright it seems like the very personification of bad news.

“Uhm … Hello.” Does he want to know what he’s about to do in the city or would it be harder on him than a surprise?

Terushima doesn’t give him the opportunity to choose. “Let’s go to the music store! I wanna get my violin fixed so we can start our lessons!”

Well, that’s not the most terrible thing he could have said; in fact it’s rather convenient. If he runs into Yachi again, he can try and subtly imply that he has something to talk about, provided she won’t freak out on him. She seemed like a rather skittish person. And it’s probably best if he accompanies Terushima anyway if it’s about the violin – he’s by no means an expert on how to build these things but he has gathered some knowledge over the years. Maybe they’re going to have another keyboard or e-piano today too. If Terushima’s around, he could guilt-trip him into buying one if absolutely necessary. Desperate times call for desperate measures and all that …

Of course, telling him all of that would be counterproductive, so what he ends up saying is, “Sure. I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway about the concert and our plan, so it’s two birds with one stone.”

“Why do people say that?” his friend asks with a frown as they start moving. “‘Killing two birds with one stone’, I mean. Why would you want to kill two birds? What have the birds ever done to you? That’s animal abuse, Kaash.”

“Good point. Besides, why use a stone in the first place?” He’s never thought too hard about it but now that Terushima mentions it, it is kind of a strange expression. Somehow, his thought process is contagious.

“I know, right! They should just say, like … Two flies with one swatter. That makes much more sense.”

Their conversation quickly turns into a discussion about which figures of speech should really be different things and it’s a welcome distraction from all the heavier stuff flying around in his mind. Between his friend’s chatter and the sunlight, he’s able to cheer up a bit (even if he’s getting enraged about certain parts of this language now).

Once they’re on the train, it shifts to something more important though. “So how expensive does this kinda stuff get?”

Right, Terushima doesn’t really know much about instruments. Keiji would like to think that making music on a computer is more expensive but it’s most likely not. Perhaps if you treat your instruments right and are really lucky it could come close … Whether that’ll be the case for his friend they’ll just have to see. “It depends. I don’t know what condition it’s in.”

“It’s … Decent?” Terushima shrugs. “I mean, it looks decent to me, but I’ve got no clue. Maybe it’s broken beyond repair or something.”

“Guess we’ll figure that out once we’re there.” It’s still safely tucked away in a proper violin case, so at least he’s being careful for now. Looking at him like this, Keiji thinks that the biggest difference between Terushima and Bokuto may be that he would not trust Bokuto to even look at a violin for too long, let alone carry it around.

“Anyway, you said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Ah, right. About … Our plan.” Even though there’s no need to, his voice automatically gets quieter when he says it. “Do you and Kuroo-san have something concrete yet?”

Terushima’s eyes light up in an almost dangerous way and he immediately regrets asking. “We do! It’s gonna be amazing. I’ve got this whole thing planned with a dramatic confession and a marriage proposal—”

“A _what_?”

“A fake one, of course!” He’s unfazed by Keiji staring at him like he’s lost it – which, judging by his words, he has – and just keeps talking. Why does he have to keep talking? “But like, the background story is that my family are actually illegal immigrants and I have to marry someone with a real citizenship so I can justify staying in the country …”

“No, wait, that’s going way too far! There’s no way Kuroo-san will go along with that!”

“Kuroo said he’s fine with everything at this point as long as we can sell it. You wouldn’t believe it, but I’m one hell of an actor!” Terushima leans forward and stares at him with a downright terrifyingly enthusiastic grin that makes Keiji unconsciously sink a bit deeper into his seat before he realises that he should not be backing away from this.

Instead he fights his urge to run and instead holds up his hands in what he hopes comes across as a demonstrative ‘stop’. “No! No, I’m not letting this happen. I’m intervening. Forget it! This is for the good of our friends, not for you to turn it into some terrible Hollywood drama!”

To his surprise, he doesn’t get a reply. Terushima only snorts, falls back against his seat, and starts laughing. Keiji can only look at him in confusion and needs a few seconds to figure out he has most likely just been lied to.

“God, ‘kaash,” he wheezes, “you’re so fucking funny when you’re agitated like that.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Keiji grumbles and crosses his arms, staring off to the side. Still, he can’t help the light feeling in his chest – his words don’t hold much meaning. Somehow it’s nice to be fooled by a friend. That makes him sound like a masochist, but …

“We do have a plan though! It’s really simple, Kuroo’s just gotta compliment me on my performance a certain way … I told him to drag Bokuto along, but if that doesn’t work out, I’m gonna need your help to make sure he’s watching?” That sounds far more reasonable. Thank goodness.

“Of course. But please don’t do anything rash.”

“When have I ever?” The way he says it almost makes him sound serious, and Keiji makes a mental note to write a list and memorise it so he can shove some examples back at him next time they have this conversation.

He doesn’t have that yet though, so he settles for changing the topic before he can get another near-heart attack. “Anyway, you don’t happen to have found a piano alongside that violin?”

“Nah, sorry, I’d have told you already.” He shoots him an apologetic grin. Keiji ranted about this to him via text, though he left out the part about Yachi. The fewer people get involved in this the better or else it’ll spiral entirely out of control. “Don’t you have a pianist boyfriend or something though?”

“Tooru just uses the school pianos to practice and they’re all booked.” He supposes he could ask him to let him practice alongside him occasionally, but it wouldn’t be a permanent solution. “I have an e-piano at home but no way to transport it right now.”

“Don’t you know people with a license?”

“Sure, but nobody with a big enough car.” He certainly does not want to squeeze that expensive instrument into Oshirun. That’d probably break both the car and the piano. “Do you happen to know someone?”

“Uh …” Terushima cocks his head and frowns, thinking. “I mean, people at my main building have to carry heavy equipment around all the time, I’m sure I could find someone. Just gotta ask around.”

Will his lifesaver truly by Terushima Yuuji? Keiji can’t help a relieved smile, even if nothing is decided yet. “That’d be wonderful. Thank you.”

He gives him a thumbs-up gesture and just in time with the movement, a robotic voice announces their stop.

 

* * *

 

Yachi isn’t in the music store.

Of course she’s not, that’d be way too easy, but he dared being hopeful for a second. Well, that’s what that gets him – looks like he jinxed himself.

The person greeting them instead is a middle-aged man with a stare so piercing he feels like he’s done something wrong the second he sees them. Terushima, however, remains unfazed.

“Hello! I’ve got a violin that needs fixing!”

“Do you now,” the man says in the coldest tone Keiji has ever had the displeasure of hearing and his eyes narrow behind the glasses sitting low on his nose. “What is wrong with it?”

“We’re … Not really sure yet,” he jumps in before his friend can say anything that would get them in trouble. Unfortunately, said friend does not get the hint.

“Yup, I only just found it. I don’t know shit about instruments, so I thought I should let an expert look it over before I fuck it up even more.”

“Language,” Keiji hisses.

The man nods and points them toward a door so remote he never saw it until it was pointed out to him. It’s a bit hidden between shelves and what seems like the word ‘workshop’ is engraved on it in a dark black.

“Thanks!” Terushima says and grabs Keiji’s wrist to drag him along. He doesn’t even get the chance to bow.

Somehow he thinks that employing such an intimidating person must be hurting their sales. He much preferred Yachi, despite all that comes with her being here.

Without any semblance of patience or politeness Terushima opens the door as soon as it’s in reach and reveals a surprisingly big room that smells like wood and metal. Its tables and walls are cluttered with all sorts of things, some of which he recognises but many are completely foreign to him, and there’s many tall shelves that all look the same. They’re practically screaming for a labelling system, but if the people working here don’t need it then all the more power to them. He’d go crazy if this was his working environment though. Never underestimate the importance of alphabetic sorting and colour-coding.

He can only spot one person standing in the corner of a room, a muscular girl with short dark hair focused on what looks like the many disassembled part of a bassoon sprawled out on the table in front of her. She looks deep in thought, but of course Terushima doesn’t care.

“Yo! Can you get a violin fixed around here?”

“Please don’t interrupt her—” Keiji starts but is ironically interrupted himself by the girl.

“Sure thing! Whadaya got?” She gives them a bright confident smile and for some reason he feels like he does not want to have this person as an enemy. She could probably kick his butt in two seconds flat.

At least she seems much nicer than the scary guy from before, so he still takes it as a relief to walk up to her and explain the situation. After Terushima has handed over the violin and she’s inspected it for a moment, she whistles in appreciation. “For being a thing you just found while tidying up, this one’s in pretty good shape! Except for the water damage that is. Did’ya ever have a broken pipe or something in your house?”

“Yes, actually, a few years ago!” Terushima leans toward Keiji and adds in a hushed voice, “That’s so amazing that she could tell.”

“Of course she could tell, water can damage a violin quite badly.” He’d know, he had to get his fixed once after knocking over a glass of water and spilling all over it. Which is not something that Terushima needs to know. Keiji’s the professional one here.

“Imma need some time with it. I’ve got some other things queued and I’d rather do this myself than hand it over to someone else …” She scratches her head and glances over at a calendar on the wall. “You don’t need it for school, right? Cuz pushing it forward would be more expensive, y’know.”

“No, it’s fine! Take your time!” Terushima says too quickly. If Keiji had to guess, he’s doing his best to not compulsively flirt with her right now, perhaps because he too is intimidated by the fact that she looks like she could snap his neck in two if she felt like it. She doesn’t look much older than them, but she’s clearly been doing this for a long time – she just oozes pride in her work. That’s the kind of person he’d trust with his own instruments, and he decides that if he ever has the need to, he’ll come here to get his stuff fixed. The more minor things can be done at Karasuno or simply by himself, but if push comes to shove, he now has a place to go.

“Gimme like two weeks before you show up here again. If it’s done in less, I’ll call you … Hold on, I need your phone number.”

Keiji can’t help but constantly sneak glances at his friend next to him to make sure he doesn’t spontaneously combust. He sure looks like it, he’s blushing so hard his face resembles a cherry more than it does a human being. For all his smooth talking, he sure is easy to catch off guard.

“I-I have a boyfriend!” he practically shouts at her and she raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Uh, yeah, so do I. Still might have to call you though.”

As per usual, Keiji is the one stuck having to deal with incompetence personified. “I’m sorry for my friend. He’s a bit of an idiot sometimes.”

“ _‘kaash_! That’s unfair! I get good grades!”

“Good grades are not going to help you here, Terushima.”

The girl laughs and slaps Keiji hard on the shoulder. “You two are funny! Anyway, as for the prices, that kinda depends on how much I have to end up doing. I’ll give you an idea of it once I get a closer look and then you can decide, alright? Check-up is free or something. Not usually, but since this is your first time here …”

“Ouch,” he mutters to himself and rubs his shoulder. Never mind not making her angry, she could probably kill them without even meaning to. Why is she out here fixing instruments when she could easily be an athlete? Or maybe she’s both.

“That’s great! Thank you!” Terushima seems to have gotten over his awkwardness fairly quickly and is now beaming at her before turning to Keiji and pointing to the door. “Let’s go get something to eat, ‘kaash.”

Now that is a sentiment he can agree with. “Of course. Thank you very much,” he adds and nods to the girl, who gives them a thumbs-up before returning back to her working table.

As they’re leaving the workshop again, Terushima’s grin only grows wider. “That’s so cool! I’ve never been to an instrument workshop, but now I kinda wanna try and work there.”

“That’s nowhere near your expertise,” Keiji reminds him, but can’t help a smile. Knowing Terushima, he’d probably do a good job either way.

“True, true, and I do wanna be a music producer … At, like, a really big label. Everyone in the industry’s gonna know my name!”

Somehow, he doesn’t doubt that for a second.

 

* * *

 

Things passed by far too quickly.

He doesn’t feel prepared for tomorrow. Their last few rehearsals, including the last very long one on Sunday, have been more of the same. Nekomata had few things to praise and fewer to criticise, which he supposes is a good thing, and he knows there’s really no reason to be anxious about their performance at the concert tomorrow itself.

Even so he’s lying on his bed clutching the program they’ve been given earlier, and though he knows he has to sleep, his mind can’t calm down. He’s not nervous about the duet, not yet, but there’s so many other things to worry about.

He didn’t run into Yachi again. If Mai or Tooru did, neither of them have said anything. The latter has been hanging out with Iwaizumi more, since apparently it’s not often they get to see each other anymore, but tomorrow is also the first time his best friend is going to bring his boyfriend along. By now Keiji sincerely hopes Ushijima isn’t going to be there; there’s only so much tension he can take before it gets too much.

As for the Bokuroo dilemma, he trusts Terushima and Kuroo to be doing a good job pretending to date but he has to consider what to do if Bokuto _doesn’t_ get jealous. He’s been assuming he will for a while but the truth is, the reason they’re doing this is to get his feelings sorted out. If he figures out he wants nothing but friendship, he won’t know how to proceed.

At least Keiji’s own love life is in order. He never thought he’d say that someday but here he is.

Speaking of his own love life, he doesn’t know if Tooru is awake right now – to be honest, he doesn’t even know what time it is, but the sun has set a while ago, so he probably won’t have much luck. But he can at least try, right?

He puts the program down and reaches for his phone, fully intending to text him, but his glance falls upon the phone app instead.

It’s not something he usually likes to do. In fact, he’d go so far as to say he hates calling people and being called. But for some reason, right now that button seems much more inviting than sending a quick message.

Would his phone ringing wake him up? Probably. Unless he has it on silent mode … It’s worth a try.

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing until his phone is at his ear and he’s greeted with a few low beeps. If they’d gone on for longer, he might have regretted it, but just when he feels that first subtle unease creeping up his body, Tooru picks up.

“Keiji? Is something wrong?”

Well, he doesn’t _sound_ tired … What he does sound is worried. It makes sense, considering Keiji usually never calls. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I’m alright, I just …” His sentence trails off into nothing when he realises he doesn’t have a proper reason. “I can’t sleep,” is what he settles on saying.

“Me neither,” comes the answer immediately. “That’s kinda cute.”

“A ruined sleep schedule isn’t cute.”

“You’re always so negative, Keiji. Try to see the bright side! Like … Uh …”

“Exactly.” He smiles to himself nonetheless.

“Well, I’m sure if you think hard enough you can come up with something.” There’s a short pause and then, significantly more softly, “Seriously though, are you really doing alright? Tomorrow’s a big day.”

“Tell me about it,” he sighs. For which reasons though, his boyfriend doesn’t know yet. Speaking of which … They didn’t get much time together recently so he had a convenient excuse to not bring this topic up, but just letting him potentially run into Yachi without at least warning him … That’s not the nicest thing to do in the world. He doesn’t know how it’ll turn out, but now that they’re talking like this, he feels like he owes it to him. “There’s something I need to tell you though.”

“Is there?” He can hear the smile in his voice – Tooru’s probably assuming it’s going to be something nice. Oh, how he wishes that was true.

“I ran into someone at the music store, back when my keyboard broke. I’m … Sorry for not telling you earlier.”

“Someone,” he repeats.

It’s difficult to speak out loud, and his voice is little more than whisper when he finally says, “Yachi Hitoka.”

“Oh.” There’s silence on the other end for a long time, so long he almost assumes he hung up on him, but when he hears him speak again, it’s something he didn’t expect, like so many times before. “Wait, she doesn’t live here though. What’s she doing here?”

“She said she just recently moved here. I talked to her about Mai a bit, and she knows she’s in the choir now, so she’ll probably come and see the concert. Please … I know it’s asking a lot, but please play nice tomorrow.” Making requests right now doesn’t feel right, but it’s as good a time as any.

“Uh … Guess that’s a good opportunity to apologise.” His words are strained, but he’s at least making an effort. Perhaps things can turn out fine after all. He wants to believe. “Keep Mai-chan away from me though, she’ll ruin everything.”

“Don’t say that about my best friend,” he says, knowing full well that Tooru has a point.

“I know, I know.” He sighs and when he talks next, this part of the conversation is apparently over. “Is that what you’re so worried about? It’ll be fine. As will everything else. We’ll have a great performance and you’ll nail your duet and Bo-kun will get together with Kuro-chan and then we can focus on the competition and the next few exams. And getting you a proper piano. Have you heard anything about that from Teru-chan yet?”

“Everyone’s busy right now. It’s quite a long ride.”

“I’d rent a truck or something but truth be told, I have no clue how to drive those things. How are you supposed to see anything without a back window?”

“Oh, so even the great Oikawa Tooru is scared of some things.” Keiji chuckles upon hearing the noise he makes, somewhere between a squeak and a huff.

“It’s just a bit unsettling, okay! I’m not scared!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

“You’re the _worst_. I hate that I love you.”

“I don’t know. Personally, I love that you do.”

Tomorrow will be a big day indeed. There’s so many things coming together at that concert, many of them scary in their own right. But, maybe because right now feels soft and warm and comfortable, he thinks that Tooru may be right.

Everything will be fine.

As long as he doesn’t know if that’s true, he’ll just have to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [insert muffled _don't stop believing_ playing in the background]


	41. moonlight silhouette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has been brought to you by ... not quite our choir setting everything up, but the spirit is similar. or German teacher had an obsession with volunteering our class for setting up the chairs before an event, to the point where he started to time us and buy us waffles if we beat his goal. we always did. he lost a lot of money on us.
> 
> enter Akaashi Satsuki, one of my favourite non-canon family members! she's such a joy to write, honestly. I hope we never get to see Akaashi's family in canon because if we do, my world will be destroyed unless his mother is exactly like her. same goes for Oikawa actually. and Yahaba. I never want to see Yahaba's family, ever. Yahaba exists in the void. does Yahaba even exist? WHAT'S A YAHABA??
> 
> I've arrived on a final chapter count I want this story to have! I'm not saying it yet because I'm afraid I won't reach it without padding so I don't wanna promise anything, but what I can say is that this fic will not reach chapter 50. make of that what you will. (or maybe you saw me talk about it on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fluffballnija) in which case just ignore me.) it's bittersweet to be coming this close to the end, but I'm gonna give it my all until then and it's certainly not the last time we've visited this verse. perhaps not the last time we've visited Akaoi in this verse, either, but not as quickly. it's comforting to know I can write more in my favourite AU though. aaaa
> 
> next chapter is when shit goes down but. that was obvious, wasn't it.
> 
> the title is ... the event song from the ObaStage event Kaash played. yes, he managed to get the event card. if he hadn't, trust me, he'd be complaining about it.

The Musical Academy of Karasuno is a prestigious school focused entirely on musical professions. Those professions also include the things you don’t usually see much of if you’re not working in the industry, such as sound mixing, preparing a stage or studio, and general event planning. In fact, they have quite a few students here who focus only on that.

So why, pray tell, do the performing clubs have to set everything up themselves?

“It’s a discipline thing,” Tooru says carrying a big speaker and looking complete unbothered by it. “If we have problems, we can always ask someone more competent. Besides, there’s lots of people here who know their stuff.”

“It’s still stupid,” Keiji grumbles and stares down at the markings on the floor. They’re supposed to show them where to put things, except nobody actually made an effort to tell them what they have to put there in the first place.

Most others from the choir have escaped to somewhere else to hang up papers and ask around for what they still need, but he wasn’t that lucky – before he knew what was happening, Ono had already commanded him to help here. He suspects that Tooru stayed predominantly out of solidarity because most of their friends had already made a run for it.

“It is what it is,” someone he has never seen before says as they’re walking past him. They must be from one of the other clubs. Not all of them are performing today, only the most renowned ones, as the smaller clubs will have another concert in between semesters. If he were to be on one of those, he’d probably be pissed off that they’re not considered worthy.

“You heard him, Keiji.” With that, Tooru sets down the speaker by the side of the stage and disappears somewhere backstage. Traitor.

They need chairs for the orchestra and big band, but since the choir performances are peppered all throughout the evening, they have to make sure they’re not in the way for their choreographies either. Which means they need a convenient way to move them without taking up too much time, all while making it look semi-professional. Maybe they’ll just turn off the lights?

Something tells him they should have probably cleared that with the performers before, but prestigious or not, Karasuno is still a school and thus has abysmal communication skills.

To be honest, he doesn’t really mind this. It’s fun to complain, but it takes his mind off more terrifying things, such as _oh my god the concert is in a few hours and everyone will be watching_ or _there’s so many people here who absolutely should not meet_.

Not to mention that his mother will arrive in a bit too, which means: commence the awkward introduction phase! He doesn’t have any doubt in his mind that she’ll get along with Tooru, but that may actually be worse than if she didn’t. Their combined power of being too damn cheery for their own good sounds positively frightening. That’s not even to mention what might happen once she meets Terushima. Her friendship with Bokuto, forged by a shared love for dumb action flicks and Keiji’s valiant efforts to keep all forms of caffeine away from either of them, was already bad enough.

That, at least, is going to be fun.

He’s not nervous yet, not quite, but being up here on stage already, looking down at the empty seats that will be filled by the time evening comes, is a strange feeling. It’s the same stage he first saw the choir sing on and now he’s part of them, will even stand out with a solo part just like Tooru did. Will he and Mai take someone’s breath away like Tooru then?

They don’t have to, he thinks, but someday, he knows he wants to.

 

* * *

 

Roughly an hour later, he hears Terushima shout before he sees the woman by the door to their rehearsal room.

“Oh my god, ‘kaash, it’s your doppelgänger!!” His friend is pointing feverishly at the doppelgänger in question, a bunch of papers on the ground next to him as if he’d dropped them. Keiji was just going to check if all the music stands piled up in this room are intact; he certainly didn’t expect to run into _her_.

People have been saying for as long as he can remember that Keiji is the spitting image of his mother. Same black, slightly curled hair, same hooded blue-green eyes, same sharp features – his own, supposedly, more feminine than most, which he doesn’t mind. It’s all fair, really, his father left them as soon as he found out his mother was pregnant and he prefers that looking into a mirror reminds him of her warmth and care, not someone as terrible as that. His mother is shorter than him, as he got his height from his father at least, but other than that, people frequently mistake them for siblings. It doesn’t help that she looks so young still, even behind those terribly unfashionable glasses.

Personality-wise though …

“Kei-chi! There you are!”

She sprints toward him in record speed, nearly knocking over a music stand that would have certainly caused a domino effect in the process, and before he even has the time to say ‘hello’, he’s enveloped in a deep hug.

A big smile spreads over his face involuntarily. They’ve been talking over phone, sure, but he hasn’t seen his mother in far too long. Since it’s always only been the two of them, they’re very close. In fact, she’s the most important person in his life by far. Having her here, a droplet of his old home standing in the room that’s grown so important to him, feels just like it should. It reminds him just how much he considers this place home now, too.

“Hi, mom. I didn’t expect you until the concert.”

She steps away and laughs, a familiar sound that echoes through the room. “I was just checking out what your school’s like. I’m just as surprised as you are! And,” she adds with a nod of the head toward Terushima, “I didn’t expect to be shouted at as soon as I got here. You’ve got yourself some lively friends again!”

Said lively friend is still gaping at the two of them and has still not picked up the papers from the ground. When Keiji points at them, he flinches and quickly scoops them up before going back to staring.

“My mother,” he explains.

“No way!” Terushima hurries over to look at his mother a bit more closely, then at Keiji, then his mother again. “You two look totally alike!”

“We get that a lot.” If nothing else, it means that he knows for a fact he isn’t adopted.

“Akaashi Satsuki, nice to meetcha!” She holds out her hand and Terushima shakes it with both of his, dropping the papers once again in the process. Keiji contemplates telling him, but decides against it.

“I’m Terushima Yuuji and I’m ‘kaash’s best friend!”

They’re almost the exact same words Bokuto used back when he first introduced himself to his mother, and he sees a similarly terrifying glow in her eyes as he did back then. He kind of hoped she could meet Terushima last, but here they are.

“Yuuji-kun, huh? I have a feeling we’re gonna get along. Thanks for taking care of my Kei-chi!”

“Shouldn’t you be thanking Oikawa instead?” Keiji flinches and glares at him, but he completely misunderstands what he was trying to say. “Uh, I mean Oikawa-san!”

He should have known this. He should have told Terushima beforehand that he has not, in fact, told his mother about his relationship yet. It’s not because he doesn’t trust her, but rather because he wants to do this right, with the well-planned out introductions and all. Damn it, he already memorised a script! But of course Terushima doesn’t care about that.

“Who’s Oikawa? One of your senpai?” She has no idea, but denying their relationship now would only make it more awkward later. Curse you, Terushima Yuuji.

He sighs, deciding that today is not a day of plans going well – hopefully that’s not a sign of things to come – and says, as confidently as he can muster, “Oikawa Tooru. My boyfriend.”

Three, two, one …

“Your _what_?!”

He silently thanks every deity he can spontaneously think of that this room is soundproof and, aside from the three of them, empty. The door may be open, but he’s pretty sure there’s nobody out there either. They’re all busy. As should he be. He just has to hope the music stands are all fine.

“My boyfriend,” he repeats, hoping more fake confidence is going to make this easier. He’s not afraid she’ll disapprove, heck, he’s not even afraid she’ll get mad he didn’t tell her. That’s not the kind of relationship they have; it’s always been ‘all at its own time’. What he is afraid of is …

“Oh my gosh, you have to introduce me! What’s he like? Does he like to go shopping? Because I’m totally gonna take him shopping so I can make sure he looks good next to you. He’s treating you right, isn’t he? Oh, of course he is, otherwise you wouldn’t put up with him. Is he in the choir too? If Yuuji-kun said ‘san’, is he older? How much older? Does he have money? Or his life together? Is he fun? Please tell me he’s fun so I can plan a welcome party!”

Exactly this.

Her eyes are positively sparkling as she’s grinning from ear to ear and once again he wonders if the reason he seems to get attached to the loud, overwhelming people is because he grew up with one of them as his primary role model.

He could say that Tooru is ‘fun’ in her terms, because he is. They’ll get along splendidly. He just doesn’t know if he can survive that, so he skips straight to the point. “Don’t worry. He’s … He’s great. I’m really happy with him.”

Saying it out loud brings a smile to his face once again. There’s something about telling his mother this in the rehearsal room in which so many things have happened that does strange things to his heart, and it’s a bit scary how much he likes it. He hopes, more than he has hoped for anything else before, that they can make this last.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Terushima says and finger-guns at him.

“A relationship,” Keiji corrects. “Someone’s got a relationship.”

“Aw, look at my Kei-chi go,” his mother says, looking at him like he’s a puppy who just did a trick for the first time. “I haven’t seen you this smitten since that one time you got to hold that owl chick.”

“You got to hold an owl chick? That’s so cool, man!” Terushima exclaims and places his hands on Keiji’s shoulders, staring him down. “Where was it? I wanna do that too.”

“At an animal sanctuary in Tokyo way back in junior high— Hold on, that’s not relevant at all!”

But the conversation has already shifted to baby birds and soon enough his friend and mother are engaged in a passionate discussion about whether or not the sanctuary should keep or release them. He doesn’t necessarily _want_ to slip away without a word, but he fears it’s the only way he’ll get everything done, which is marginally more important right now.

After quickly inspecting the music stands – they look fine upon first glance, so he hopes they’ll be okay even without proper checking – he disappears outside without a sound, thankfully unnoticed by the two.

Slowly but surely they’re all finishing their work, but it’s still a few hours until the concert actually starts. There’s going to be a soundcheck later on and the rest will be done by the actual professionals, and of course the quick final warming up …

Not to mention they have to get dressed, too. He is not looking forward to switching Tooru’s soft cardigan for a suit, but that’s just how it is. They will switch it up whenever they have time depending on the song, but they’re starting with _Missa pro Defunctis_ and that’s pretty much the gloomiest song in their arsenal. Why on earth they’re leading with that he doesn’t understand, but at least it’s not _Spica_.

The last thing he still has to do is help set up the decorations along the way that’ll lead people to the stage. Considering how confusing this campus is, it’s a good idea. They’re mostly done, but some areas are still looking a bit barren, so it can’t hurt to add some more.

It’s mostly familiar-looking lanterns; they seem to be borrowed from the Midsummer Market. It’s going to look beautiful once they’re lit up and night has fallen, just like it did then. Seeing them like this, though, up close and still unlit, he notices the intricate illustrations on some of the paper ones. Cats and crows, mostly, fighting on some of them while sitting together on others. They give the impression of friendly rivals, perhaps, who battle with no hard feelings. He does wonder why the cat is there though. The crow makes sense, since it’s Karasuno, but he can’t think of any cat imagery around here. Perhaps it’s a traditional thing.

Some third years are already hard at work here, but they’re grateful to have another helping hand. It doesn’t take long until the entire pathway is decorated with colourful ribbons, the lanterns, and lots of paper stars. It has a homemade charm to it in a way. Singing out here would be nice too; maybe he can bring up the idea sometime.

Not that any of that matters.

Once he’s dismissed he really has nothing to do anymore so he ends up wandering around aimlessly looking if anything is still amiss. He knows he’s starting to get restless which is never a good thing, but he’s so used to everything taking until the very last second back at Fukurodani that it’s suddenly strange to have free time before a concert. The last one was different, they just had to perform while everything else was provided, but this time around they’re the ones doing everything and it feels like they shouldn’t be done yet. Curse you, proper time management.

After a while, Keiji finds himself in their rehearsal room once more. His mother and Terushima are gone and so are the music stands – in fact this entire room is almost barren save for the grand piano. Usually there’s at least something standing around, be it a stray chair someone who used the room didn’t remember to put back or a CD player stored here for safe-keeping. He never really noticed it until suddenly the place is pretty much spotless. It’s a bit unnerving.

The grand piano is tempting him but playing right now doesn’t feel quite right either. Though the room is soundproof, he thinks it may be too loud anyway.

He sits down on the stool and opens the piano lid anyway, brushes his fingers over the keys for a familiar sense of calm. Incorporating an instrument like this into their performance would be difficult, but perhaps they could make it work. Have a soloist play on their own before everyone joins in and they fade back into the crowd …

“Oh, you’re here too.”

Keiji doesn’t need to look up to recognise the voice from the door that leads to the stage. He simply smiles to himself and presses down on the F4 key so slowly it almost doesn’t make a sound. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”

“You’re one to talk,” Tooru says and Keiji listens to his steps coming closer. “Got nothing to do?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. I wish I did.”

“Move over.” A light push on his shoulder and he almost decides he wants to mess with him a bit and just stay still, but there’s something in his boyfriend’s voice he probably wouldn’t notice if he was looking at him. He’s good at hiding his emotions, however …

“Are you nervous already?”

The offended huff he gets from him when he sits down next to him tells him more than enough, despite his words. “Me? Nervous? Don’t know where you’re getting that from, Keiji. I’m completely calm.”

“Sure you are.” He finally looks up and sure enough, the only thing he can see on his face is mock annoyance. It’s kind of strange, he thinks, how obvious or subtle Tooru can be when he wants to. Honestly, it makes him a bit proud.

It makes sense though when he thinks about it. Keiji isn’t the only one who botched a solo performance, and this should be the concert where Tooru did last year. Being nervous about that is natural, no matter how confident you are in your abilities. Thankfully he can’t mess that up today, but it certainly must bring up painful memories.

Instead of playing a little melody on the piano as usual, today Tooru places his hand on Keiji’s to intertwine their fingers from above, providing a spot of warmth that seems to spread through his whole body almost embarrassingly quickly. “How would you even know that?”

“It’s obvious from your voice. Besides …” He can’t help but stare at their joint hands on the piano keys, right where they belong. “Why else would you come here? There’s no need to practice.”

“There’s always a need to practice. Can’t let my precious kouhai keep showing me up. I’m still the Grand King, I should have the skills to match!”

“Where did that nickname come from anyway,” he mutters more to himself. Then, louder, he adds, “How strange that you only arrived when I came here though. When I tried to see if they still needed help onstage, they nearly kicked me out. That means you also had no need to be there, so you could have been here way before me.”

“Ah …” There’s a little pause that tells him he’s onto something. So much for ‘always a need to practice’. “How curious indeed … I may just have impeccable timing …”

“Or you saw me coming by and put two and two together.”

A soft gasp and a squeeze of his hand that makes him laugh a little. “Are you implying I wanted your company because I was nervous? That I only came here because I saw you and thought it’d calm me down? _Preposterous_.”

“You said that right now, not me.”

“You—” And with that, he has him speechless. In a split-second decision, he turns his head to press a swift kiss to Tooru’s cheek that, too, leaves him looking dumbfounded. That’s a very good look on him. Positively adorable.

Even though it’s not something he can easily put into words, he likes having him here as well. Now that he has nothing to focus on his imagination is free to spin out of control and overthinking is the absolute last thing he needs. He’s reasonably confident about his duet, but everything surrounding it keeps crossing his mind whenever nothing else is occupying it. Bokuto. Kuroo. Yachi. Ushijima. And where did his mother go, actually? Hounded off campus for disturbing everyone’s work process?

“Soundcheck starts in thirty minutes,” Tooru mutters after a while and rests his head on Keiji’s shoulder. “You ready?”

“It’s just soundcheck.” He won’t get truly nervous until just before it begins, though he does understand what he’s getting at. Soundcheck is when everything starts for real.

“I guess. I’m sure Shiida’s lurking somewhere already to listen to it though.”

Right, his sister will be here too. He’s looking forward to meeting her – if she’s Tooru’s inspiration, she must be quite the impressive person. Judging by what he’s heard about her, she’ll get along with his mother just fine too. Speaking of whom … “Did you happen to run into a woman who looks like me earlier?”

The side-eye he receives for that is almost comical. “A what? No. Do I have to be afraid?”

“Depends,” Keiji says, thinking back to his mother’s outburst. “Do you like welcome parties? Or going shopping with overenthusiastic mothers?”

“I could imagine worse things, I guess. So what you’re saying is …”

“My mother is here and I’m pretty sure she’s already planning our entire relationship.” He sighs and shakes his head, undecided whether he finds it endearing or just plain annoying sometimes. “I wanted to introduce you properly, but Terushima.”

“But Teru-chan,” Tooru repeats and nods. Looks like he understands. “Shiida already knows about you and she’s been dying to meet you. My parents don’t, though. Dunno when I’ll tell them. You’re not missing out on anything, trust me.”

It’s strange to think that his own family life is so fundamentally different. He’s an only child who grew up with a single mother, but he never had any problem with that. Since he’s close with his extended family, he still has people to talk to on family gatherings, but usually it’s just the two of them and they make it work. And then there’s Tooru, who’s closest relative is his sister and who doesn’t have the best relationship with his parents. It’s hard to imagine what that feels like – it seems like a completely different world.

“I know Watacchi is coming too. I think he already told you that?”

He did, several times. Recently they’ve been talking before and sometimes during their shared lecture a lot, even though it’s mostly Watari telling stories from the ballroom dancing club and Keiji listening. It’s more interesting than class for sure. “Yes. And Iwaizumi-san …”

“And Tobio,” Tooru adds and pulls a face. “Forget about Hitoka, Tobio is the person I want to meet the least. And I can’t even avoid him. I hope he’s having a really bad day, like, maybe he banged his foot on furniture this morning or his phone died.”

Which part of this is jealousy and which is just pettiness out of tradition? It honestly feels like he’s purposely hating him just because he always has. If Iwaizumi likes him, this Tobio person can’t be all that bad, but he is kind of curious just what kind of person has Tooru so riled up. Perhaps it’s all a matter of them not being on the same wavelength.

He’d tell him to be nicer to him but who knows, maybe he has a point. He’ll reserve his dismay for after meeting him – he can still tell Tooru to calm down then.

“What about Ushijima-san?” he asks, more to himself. He just assumed he’d be here, but Tooru hasn’t even mentioned him yet.

Sure enough, the reply he gets is, “Why would Ushiwaka-chan be here? He’s in Nagoya right now. The national orchestra’s playing there all weekend.”

Oh. Right. Ushijima wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place. He still hasn’t figured out what he was doing here, but it looks like one of his worries has already evaporated. Keiji can’t help but breathe a small sigh of relief. “I don’t know. I just assumed he would be.”

“He’s probably gonna watch the competition though, so it’s not like we’ll never see him again. Unfortunately. On a brighter note, I’ve heard it’s time to put Plan B for Bo-kun Needs To Sort His Feelings Out in action, finally?”

“I hope that works out.” If he sees his best friend sad for much longer it’ll drag them all down. Even if he realises what he feels for Kuroo isn’t romantic, it’ll at least give them a chance to properly get over it … Which he isn’t hoping for. It’d be easier on everyone if they just got together.

“Tell me about it,” Tooru sighs. “I’m starting to understand why Iwa-chan got fed up with me. And Kuro-chan’s even _trying_ not to be annoying, it’s just really not working out.”

Meanwhile Bokuto has been uncharacteristically quiet, which is never a good sign. But at least they have something for the two of them. Unlike … “Are you okay about Yachi?”

He squeezes Keiji’s hand for a second before letting go and stretching. “Yeah, I guess. I hope I can finally tell her everything I wanted to. It’d just be a lot easier if it wasn’t for Mai-chan.”

“I can try and distract her so you can be alone with Yachi.” Roping her into the Bokuroo dilemma sounds like a decent move anyway, after all the whole thing was her idea. But he does still need to lead Bokuto to Kuroo and Terushima as well, so juggling both is going to be … A thing.

“That’d be wonderful, actually,” Tooru says though so he supposes the decision is made. “You know, these aren’t things people would usually worry about at a concert of all things.”

“True.” He misses the warm of their intertwined hands, but they should probably get going anyway. The only reason they can be alone here is because most everyone is off somewhere else and the rehearsal room doesn’t seem to be a place where people come to calm down. Keiji doesn’t really understand why, but perhaps that’s the pianist in him speaking.

He does have to find his mother again too, he doesn’t want her to get lost here. If necessary, he’ll just have to call her.

But then it’s that, and the soundcheck, and everything after that is business even more so than before. The thought, he does admit, is a tiny bit intimidating, but …

“I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you now. oh, how times have changed


	42. Overture (Wonderment)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the whole "if you don't get nervous before a performance you should quit" thing is something my mother always told me. idk how she'd know, since she's one of the least musically and/or artistically inclined people in our family, but I always took it to heart. I can definitely see the point though, and it made me feel better about pretty much dying before every concert pff
> 
> I fully intended to have the entire concert covered in one chapter but that was just. ludicrous. no. it's two chapters now. way more convenient for my intended final chapter count too. which is still a secret. HA
> 
> I'm not even gonna say much about this one except that writing it really! made me wanna go back on stage!! aaaaa I'd join the uni choir but they ... kinda suck ...... should I do it anyway
> 
> oh and the chapter title is the title of the song the big band covered yo

Soundcheck went by without much issue. There was a minor inconvenience involving solo microphones that was quickly fixed by just switching one out, and everything else seemed to work perfectly fine. It half puts Keiji’s mind on ease, and yet he can’t shake the rising feeling of nervousness.

Even though he knows he’s doing just fine, he’s been sitting in the library and going over his sheet music for the past thirty minutes or so, meticulously repeating the most important parts to himself. He could probably sing any of these perfectly in his sleep at this point but unfortunately he’s not asleep, he’s very much awake and being awake means worrying.

Keiji knows, of course, that revising everything is just going to make him more nervous, but when he tried to calm himself down by listening to music or playing ObaStage he just felt guilty about not doing enough, despite knowing that that’s not true at all.

Sometimes he wishes he could be Bokuto or Terushima, who take life as it comes, or Tooru or Mai, who’s skills speak of experience and confidence Keiji could only ever hope for. But he’s none of those people, he’s Akaashi Keiji and he has to live with that whether he wants to or not.

His gaze flies over the same passage of _Late Night Café_ he’s been rereading over and over again trying to find something in it he can’t quite describe. It’s right at the beginning of the chorus, a shift in tone for the entire song, and he just cannot figure out what makes it work, since by all accounts everything stays the same. If he can narrow down what causes the mood shift, maybe his performance will improve? Not that it really matters, but he needs _something_ to do.

At this point he might as well get dressed up for their first song but that only drives home the reality of his situation more. At least they’re not starting with _Spica_ , which is some form of relief.

Keiji takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

He’s going to be fine. They’re going to be fine. They’ve practiced so much, everyone here is top-class, and there’s no reason why they should do badly. In fact, that’d be much more of a surprise. If there’s one thing he wishes he had done more of it would be socialising with everyone, have everyone feel more like a unit rather than his friends and then a bunch of people he hardly knows, but that’s really it.

They’re going to be fine.

Everything else is going to be fine, too. Bokuto and Kuroo. Yachi, Mai, and Tooru. His mother, Iwaizumi, Tooru’s sister. Ushijima isn’t coming, so that’s one worry off his mind. It’ll be fine.

It’ll be fine.

 

* * *

 

 _It’ll be fine_ , he keeps repeating in his head over and over again as he adjusts his suit jacket even though it’s already flawless.

Not unlike their first concert, they’re in a classroom again, waiting for everything to start. Slowly but surely everyone is gathering here until Nekomata is eventually going to arrive and they’ll warm up their voices and get one last bit of practice in.

Even though it’s a common occurrence by now, Keiji keeps glancing at the door whenever someone opens it. Nobody else seems to care, so he’s probably just being paranoid, but even though he’s waiting for someone in particular he can’t help the feeling that someone else is going to barge in and give them some horrible news, like that they don’t need the choir anyway or that the entire concert was cancelled or that Nekomata has switched the entire repertoire last-minute and they’re being turned into a very big boy band cover group.

He’s trying to distract himself by reading through his sheet music once again but he can’t even focus on the words and notes. This might as well be written in a language he’s never heard of before.

Then, finally, the door opens once more and Mai comes in, carrying a sports bag and expression uncharacteristically serious.

Terushima next to him immediately waves at her as she walks over to them before stretching out his arms at her with a wide grin on his face.

“Don’t fucking hug me,” Mai hisses with such ferocity Terushima backs away a few steps. “Do you know how long it took to get my hair up like this? Knowing you, it’ll fall apart as soon as you touch it, and if that happens I’m suing you for vandalism.”

Keiji raises an eyebrow at her, but stays back just in case. “Vandalism? You consider yourself public property?”

“Well, _duh_. As soon as we’re up on stage, all of us are! And that means I can sue you.”

Alright, don’t trust Nametsu Mai when filing a lawsuit, noted.

Her hair really does look like it took ages to get done though. It’s convenient they’re starting with the fanciest get-up, even if it’s a bit sad that all those sparkly pins holding her hair up in a big, luxurious-looking bun aren’t going to stay for long. It kind of makes him wonder why she went all-out like this, especially since her black dress is elegant, but not really anything special. Maybe she just had fun dressing up or maybe she wants to make a good first impression on Yachi—

Hold on, does Mai even know Yachi is here? Heck, _is_ Yachi here? He just took it as a given but he did the same thing with Ushijima.

Terushima is pouting with his arms crossed. He doesn’t look quite as fancy as her, but something about the combination between nice suit and dyed blond undercut kind of makes it work. He’ll definitely stand out among everyone, that’s for sure. “I just wanted to hug you for luck.”

“We don’t need luck,” she states matter-of-factly before turning away to place her bag on one of the tables and rummage through it. “Nobody who’s good needs luck.”

Keiji can feel his lips twisting up in an involuntary smile upon those words. It’s a bit soothing, to hear something like this. There’s no flattery in what Mai said, nothing but complete sincerity. It reminds him of Tooru a bit.

Once again he wonders what their relationship could be like if the thing with Yachi hadn’t been in the way. They could be such could friends, maybe even a team, an absolutely terrifying vocalist duo both in their skill and their personalities. He definitely wouldn’t want to cross them when they’re pissed off at him.

His eyes find Tooru without meaning to. He’s on the other side of the room talking about something with Sawamura and Tachibana, who laughs at a comment the former made and slaps Tooru hard on the back, knocking him forward a bit. Keiji quietly snorts before turning back to his friends.

Not long after that, Nekomata shows up and they start warming up their voices. They’re being extra thorough so it takes forever but it helps put his mind at ease a bit, knowing they’re doing their absolute best to present their absolute best. It’s a given, really, but soothing nonetheless.

And then, after too long yet too short of a time, he decides they’re finished, reminds them to not talk unless they absolutely have to, and then there’s nothing left to do but quickly run over each of the songs one last time before they head off for the stage, or more precisely backstage.

It doesn’t take long until everything starts but it still feels like nothing is happening quite yet, as they’re waiting in their rehearsal room rather than sitting in the audience to actually see the concert properly begin.

The thing about having a joint concert is that while you’re waiting for your cue, the other groups’ music invades your head, and soon enough you find yourself humming along to that instead of practicing your own things.

Keiji supposes it’s fine, he’s done it like this ever since he started doing choir, but it’s still a bit unsettling, especially now. The door to the stage is open, so only the dark ed curtain separates them from the big band playing right now. It’s a relatively long song from an old movie that’s pretty popular to cover – kind of a boring choice but you shouldn’t change a running system or whatever they say.

Whispering the lyrics to himself helps keep him somewhat distracted from the butterflies in his stomach and his racing heart and his trembling hands.

“Yo, ‘kaash, Mai,” Terushima says quietly and gives them a thumbs-up when he looks at him. “Let’s do the thing. Y’know, the thing!”

“The thing?” Mai repeats, but after a second of silence she claps her hands together in realisation. “Oh, the thing! Right. We didn’t get to do it last time, so. Aka-kun, you too!”

She holds her hand out in front of her and Terushima places his on top, just like last time. And just like last time, it’s a bit soothing. Keiji joins in and they stand there without saying anything for a second before Mai takes a breath and says as loudly as she’s allowed to, “Let’s do our best and blow them away!”

“That’s not really a sports cheer, is it,” Keiji mutters.

“Well, we’re not a sports team.” Mai sounds like she’s trying to seem annoyed but there’s a softness to her voice that makes her efforts obsolete.

“But this is supposed to hype us up!” Terushima argues. “Something like that isn’t gonna do that. You gotta put more conviction into it, y’know, like you want us to feel like we can punch the rest of the world in the face!”

“We shouldn’t actually do that,” Keiji argues but his words fall on deaf ears.

Mai sighs and shakes her head with a smile. “Fine, if you really want one … I guess it’s boring if it’s just the three of us, maybe next time the others can join in, but for now: Karasuno … Fight!”

“Alright!” Keiji and Terushima reply in unison as they raise their hands to the ceiling and he finds himself smiling once again. This is a bit like the three of them are reaching for the stars together, even if they can’t see them right now. He supposes the stars are always there, so it doesn’t really matter.

“Alright guys, you’re up soon, get in formation,” Ono, who’s apparently doing the coordinating, announces and waves her hands around seemingly aimlessly.

 _This is it, huh?_ Keiji glances over at Terushima, who shoots him a bright smile that he returns to the best of his ability, and takes a deep breath before getting in line.

Perhaps it’s his mind trying to distract himself from what feels like impending doom but he always thought that the getting on stage part was the most awkward one. For a moment you just kind of walk over to your assigned spot with only the audience’s applause in the background, and he always feels like he’s doing something wrong, like he’s going to trip, like his posture sucks, like he’ll end up on the wrong side of the stage somehow.

But when he stops and turns to face the audience, the room that seems so much bigger now than when it was empty, a familiar feeling rushes through him and suddenly all his nervousness is gone.

He’s not alone right now. The spotlight isn’t on him, he doubts anyone but his mother is paying him any attention at all. As always, his greatest skill is to fade into the background. But staring at the crowd gathered to hear them sing reminds him so much of the time at the theatre with Tooru and, subsequently, his piano recitals, and that tug he feels just like he did then, the one he almost forgot about when he started here, is indescribable in its intensity.

_Look at me. Listen to me. To all of us. Let us take your breath away._

He exchanges another quick smile with Terushima and leans forward just a bit to send on to Tooru as well, though he doubts he catches it, with how he, too, is staring at the audience. It’s like he’s burning with confidence and the desire to perform. Keiji supposes it’s the same for all of them in some form or another, or else they wouldn’t be here.

Now he’s kind of sad they start out with a song as boring as _Missa pro Defunctis_ , but that’s just how it is.

There’s no announcement. There doesn’t need to be one, really, everyone knows what they came here to see, and the only thing reminiscent of an introduction they get is Nekomata bowing to the audience before turning around and giving all of them one of his knowing smiles, the one that says ‘you’ve got this’.

And then the music starts.

To be completely honest, Keiji doesn’t think much during this part. His body basically runs on autopilot by now, he could do these steps in his sleep and if you so much as spoke a single line from the lyrics he’d immediately sing the entire thing. It’s been drilled into his very being, all of the songs have been, and performing it feels unbelievably easy. He’s feeling light, soft, like he’s being carried by a cloud, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wonders how on earth he could have ever been nervous.

This is just the way it used to be – every last bit of anxiety flies away as soon as you sing the first note. He just forgot that for a while, but he’ll never let it go ever again.

There’s not a lot of moving around in these first two songs but his body feels like it’s burning anyway; maybe it’s the lights heating up the stage or maybe the adrenaline that makes everything pass by in lightspeed, but by the time their first part on stage is over, it’s like he only just started despite what his body is telling him.

_I don’t want to go._

Leaving and coming back means repeating the same cycle of anxiety and exhilaration when just staying here and continuing would never break the latter. If it were up to him, they wouldn’t end this until they’re all out of songs and then some. But it’s not, and with the audience’s applause once again in the background, they’re ushered off the stage to make space for the orchestra.

Terushima immediately darts out of the door as soon as they’re back in the rehearsal room and Keiji and Mai exchange a confused glance before quietly laughing at whatever has him so agitated. They can’t talk much – if they do, Nekomata will chew them out for not taking care of their voices – but it’s clear they’re feeling the same thing, about all of this.

When Mai goes after Terushima to maybe find out where he went, Keiji walks over to Tooru, who’s fishing a bottle out of his bag, which may not be the worst idea.

Keiji taps his shoulder to get his attention and points at the bottle. They do have drinks standing in the corner of the room but it’s a brand of water he absolutely hates and Tooru has apple juice, the vastly superior option.

He stares at him for a second before taking a demonstratively big chug in a notion of ‘get your own’, but ends up handing him the bottle anyway. Success.

“We totally messed up the bridge in _Blessed Children_ ,” Tooru mutters despite all of Nekomata’s warnings and Keiji cocks his head. The bridge sounded fine to him. “Not you guys, the tenors. Futa-chan got a triplet wrong and it screwed us all over.”

He contemplates how to answer that without speaking, but to hell with it. His voice will be fine. “I don’t think anyone noticed. I certainly didn’t, and I’m close to you.”

“It was miniscule, but it was still there.” Even so, he’s smiling, not with humour or fondness but with a fiery resolve to do better next time. Now Keiji feels a bit ridiculous about his earlier enthusiasm – just because something sounds good doesn’t mean it can’t sound _better_. They shouldn’t strive for adequacy. They can’t, not with the competition coming up.

“Well then, let’s make sure the next ones will be perfect.”

Tooru’s smile falls for just a second of looking at him surprised before his lips twist up again. “That’s the spirit. You do know what’s coming up, right?”

Does he ever.

They don’t have to change clothes for their one and only single-song performance – with all others being doubles – and he thinks it’s quite convenient that he has his duet in what’s probably his best-looking outfit. He’s sure Mai feels the same.

Honestly, everything after _Spica_ isn’t quite as exciting even though they do get to show off their choreography for _Reach_ and try and not make a mess out of _Diminutive Attention_. It’s obvious, he supposes, that he’d be most looking forward to the part where he can show off what he and Mai have learned.

“Don’t fuck up again,” a familiar voice interrupts them and he doesn’t have to turn around to see who it is. Tooru’s smile immediately turns a bit deadlier.

“Ikari-san,” he mutters and sighs. Today, though, her words have no effect on him. Anything she could say, his mind has already done earlier, so when he turns to face her, he knows there’s nothing to read on his face but boredom with her attitude. “Shouldn’t you be resting your voice? Not that it really matters, since you don’t have a solo anyway.”

The look on her face is positively priceless – it’s like she’s trying very hard and failing to not gape at him incredulously. It’s only now that he realises she’s wearing the same dress as Mai, even though her long straight brown hair is open and therefore looks much less fancy. He wonders if Mai has already noticed and, if so, if she’s furious about it. Probably. “You …”

“Look, don’t you think it’s getting a bit old? Whatever you say won’t change the outcome. Besides, why would you try and get me down anyway? This is a choir. Everyone’s performance matters to everyone. If you can’t understand that, I doubt this is the right place for you.”

It’s a mix of the high from the stage, his newfound – if shaky – confidence, and the fact that rendering Ikari Hiyoko speechless is very fun, but he’s surprised at his own words and how clearly they come out. Tooru trying his best not to burst out laughing next to him isn’t helping.

She stares at him for only a moment before stomping away, defeated, and Tooru finally starts laughing outright.

It’s a good thing he managed to retort something before she could say anything else, Keiji thinks. Who knows what she had in mind, things that could genuinely bring him down once more. Saying ‘just don’t listen’ is easy but actually doing it near impossible.

“Ah, it’s so nice to hear that kind of stuff used against someone who isn’t me,” Tooru says once he’s calmed down a bit. “That was just like our first conversation.”

“If that’s the case, does that mean I’ll fall in love with her?” Doubtful, considering he’s gay and she’s one of the rudest people he’s ever met, but you never know.

He pulls a face. “Ugh, please don’t. You deserve better. In fact, the only one good enough for you is me.”

“That sounds like something a stalker in a bad urban fantasy novel would say.”

“Should you guys be talking this much?” Tachibana shouts when she passes by them and receives a death stare from pretty much the entirety of the soprano section that shuts her up immediately. Even Shimizu is looking reasonably angry at her. Shouting is definitely something they should not do.

She does have a point though, so their conversation ends right there and he spends the rest of the time playing ObaStage under the watchful eyes of Tooru (who’s very obviously trying to decipher how he manages to get full combos on the higher difficulty songs) until it’s time to get back in formation.

Mai and Terushima arrive fairly late, both finishing up the last bit of the ice cream he can only assume was Terushima’s reason for running away so quickly. How he figured that out while they were performing is a question for another day. Ice cream might not be a bad idea though, though honey would be better for your throat. Maybe he can find some during their next break.

“You ready?” Mai whispers and Keiji nods before heading off to his designated spot.

His hands are shaking and his heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest, but now his nervousness is like a safety net. Once again he has to remember what he’s been told ever since he started performing – if you stop being nervous before going up on stage, you should quit altogether. He doesn’t know how much he believes those words, but he thinks that it doesn’t matter anyway, since he’s never going to stop being nervous at all.

The thought makes him smile.

 _Ready when you are_ , he thinks.

And then they’re off.

He can feel the burning stares of the audience when they go up again, or maybe it’s the lights that heat up his body. It’s never cold on stage. It’s never comfortable, either, as it shouldn’t be.

Once again there’s no announcements, no ‘thank you to our soloists’ as they had at Fukurodani. They just get in position and the music starts, just like it always does.

He never realised how soft and pleasant the piano is in _Spica_ or how well they transition into the quiet beginning of the vocals. Each and every note is clearly pronounced in his ears, each and every step feels wilfully taken yet never forced. And with each and every measure into the song he grows more aware of the part this has all been leading up to.

“ _Every second passing by the milky way / even through the silence of the night._ ”

Unlike then, it feels like they take years to reach that part.

But when they do, and he takes the familiar steps toward the front of the stage, eyes fixed on the audience, he has to suppress his smile.

Five more measures until Mai’s first line and the spotlight slowly shifts to them, warming his skin like the pleasant summer sun.

Four, they start turning toward each other slowly and when their gazes meet, her eyes are sparkling.

Three, the beautiful array of voices continues singing, a soft blanket of the things he’s come to love.

Two, in the back of his mind he has to remember the planetarium and his practices with Tooru and the theatre and the melancholy of the practice camp.

One, there’s no need to be afraid.

Zero.

“ _The road they’ve gone, hands linked …_ ”

“ _Linked in fate, bound by duty …_ ”

Mai can’t seem to fight her smile and it’s contagious and he thinks she’s crying a bit and he might be crying a bit too.

“ _Duty calls to lead them astray to the lights …_ ”

“ _Lights of one million suns in the sky._ ”

He doesn’t think of the audience. He doesn’t think of anything at all. He and Mai exist in a bubble, and all he can somehow make out in the jumbled mess of his mind is that he’s grateful she’s his friend.

“ _Skyward, further, see …_ ”

“ _See, they reach, slowly …_ ”

Everything – everything is a lot right now. It’s like his heart is burning, bursting into flames.

“ _Slowly touching, falling apart with the lights …_ ”

“ _Lights of one million suns in the sky._ ”

With the finals words, their hands meet, just the feather-light whisper of a touch, and in that moment he swears he can feel what Mai is feeling, but perhaps that’s just because they’re feeling the same thing.

He doesn’t want to go back into formation.

He does so anyway, because of course, but for the rest of the song, the lingering feeling of _let me go out there again_ is taking over and he’s running on autopilot until the very end, when the music fades out and the audience cheers louder than before and when Nekomata waves him and Mai forward again so they can properly take a bow, he almost doesn’t realise what they’re shouting.

Until suddenly he does.

“Encore! Encore! Encore!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes. the most satisfying thing to ever hear on stage. bless


	43. Strawberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why Strawberry? absolutely no idea. I was hungry I guess. there's no strawberries in this chapter. but I'm sure there's a song called Strawberry in this story somewhere ... somewhere ... YES I'M RUNNING OUT OF TITLES SO WHAT
> 
> for some reason this chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm still not happy with it but it's gotta do ... at least we get to see more of Akaashi Satsuki, who I love with all my heart (god I hope we never see Akaashi's family in canon I want her to be my hc forever), some good Akaois, and ... ice cream. can you tell it's really warm here and I've been surviving off ice cream
> 
> Keiji's uncle is named after Amami Rantarou from Danganronpa V3 which I've played recently ... I don't fuck with the fandom but somehow managed to fall into the Amasai ship regardless ... when I checked AO3 to see how many fics it has, I kind of expected more. it's just over 100. that's rarepair territory. GOD DAMN IT WILL THIS HELL/HEAVEN NEVER LET ME GO
> 
> there's not as much choiring as I would have liked but honestly drawing it out too much would have been boring and we do still have the competition on the horizon, the focus now is on what's to come ... which is going to be. an experience. oh dear
> 
> I still haven't decided if I wanna join the uni choir. maybe next semester, if my classes are at convenient times.

There’s no encore, of course. Nobody would do an encore in the middle of the concert. But Keiji finds himself wishing they’d do one anyway, and he’s pretty sure he’s actually crying now and Mai reaches for his hand and they bow together once more before they all head off the stage again.

He doesn’t even get two steps into the rehearsal room before a flash of black and yellow jumps at him and Mai, accidentally shoving them to the floor in the process. The shriek Keiji lets out is just a little bit embarrassing.

Thankfully he landed softly, though he can’t say the same for Mai – in fact the whole reason he landed softly is that he pretty much crushed her underneath him.

“Sorry!” Terushima shouts and jumps to his feet, holding out his hands for Keiji to hold onto so he can pull him up. Mai, however, is still on the floor groaning and her expression … Well, if looks could kill, Terushima would have just breathed his last breath. “S-seriously, I’m sorry! I just wanted to hug you.”

“Please warn us next time,” Keiji says before reaching for Mai and pulling her up without much issue. She seems pissed, but unharmed, aside from her hair, which is an irreparable disaster. He’s starting to understand why she didn’t want any hugs earlier.

She brushes the dust off her dress and sighs, shakes her head, and when she looks at them again that deadly glare has been replaced by a bright smile. “I get it though. I mean, who wouldn’t want to hug someone as amazing as us?”

He’s not sure what he wants to do. Squeal? Remind them of the no-speaking rule? Complain about Nekomata not giving them an encore?

“I’m getting ice cream,” is what he ends up saying without meaning to. He’s not necessarily wrong about it, though. Ice cream sounds like a plan. “Do you want any?”

“Nah, I’m good. Gotta yell at my main man Kenji about how amazing my best friends are,” Terushima says and disappears in record speed to do exactly that.

“Please don’t actually yell,” Keiji mutters.

“I’d love to get more ice cream, buuut,” Mai says and glances at the back door, “I saw my family in the crowd and if I so much as leave this room, I’m sure they’ll find me somehow and never let me go again.”

“I can just bring you some?” Though family is a good point. His mother _should_ still be sitting in the audience watching the concert, but who knows with her. Their next performance is after the break, too, which means more than enough time for her to find him and he’d rather keep that for after the entire show, when he could really use the moral support.

“But I don’t know which I want!”

“Fine, then I won’t. And now we should really be quiet.” Not that it matters all that much since he’s sure they’ll warm up again after the break, where asking anyone not to talk would be ludicrous. Still, technically the rule is in place.

But if she doesn’t want ice cream, that’s her loss, he supposes.

It feels a bit strange going outside in this somewhat fancy suit just to get ice cream, but that’s his life now. First of all he’ll need to track down where that ice cream stand is anyway – right now he has absolutely no idea. He’s hoping it’ll be easy to find or maybe there’s signs pointing in its direction, because right now, he’s just standing around on campus trying very hard to figure out where to buy the ice cream he very much deserves.

Before he can do anything of that sort, though, there’s two arms wrapping around his waist so suddenly he almost punches the person they belong to. Almost. It’d be kind of difficult to do that in this position.

“Heeey,” a familiar voice sing-songs, which he supposes counts as not violating the no-speaking rule.

“Hey yourself. You don’t happen to know where the ice cream stand is?”

He can almost hear the pout in Tooru’s voice when he says, “That’s the first thing you have to say to me? How about ‘thanks for your wonderful assistance without which this performance wouldn’t have been the same’?”

Keiji sighs and turns around in his arms, making sure to keep up an unimpressed expression. “Thanks for your wonderful assistance without which this performance wouldn’t have been the same. Now really, I’m looking for the ice cream stand.”

“What a _coincidence_ ,” he replies with a sly grin that quickly turns into an apologetic one, “because I’m looking for that too. Dai-chi said it’s somewhere by the entrance? But unless he meant a different entrance than the one I had in mind, he was lying to me.”

“So you’re no smarter than I am.”

He lets go of him and reaches for his hand instead to pull him along in a direction he’s pretty sure he only took randomly hoping for the best. “Once we find it I’m paying for you. Don’t ask for too much though!”

“I can pay for it myself, you know.”

“Sure, but I’m not letting you. You need to let yourself get rewarded every once in a while, Keiji.”

Rewarded …

Even though he knows he did well, asking is a bit scary. From the very beginning, he wanted to get Tooru’s approval. He already has, in many ways, but this was the first time where doing well actually mattered, so it’s an intimidating step to take.

But he has to take it.

“So … How were we?”

Tooru stops.

For a moment they just kind of stand there, hands intertwined, and he’s almost afraid he said something wrong, but then before he even knows what’s happening he’s being pulled into a deep kiss.

It doesn’t last long enough to give him time to think about what the hell is happening until Tooru pulls away and the smile on his face is blinding. “Do you really need me to tell you?”

“Yes,” he answers involuntarily, because it’s true, because he does. Now that he’s here, he absolutely does.

Tooru leans forward to whisper in his ear, like he’s telling a secret or maybe something too important for most people to hear. “You were radiant.”

_Radiant._

That’s not something most people would ever describe him as. In high school, he was always the shadow to Bokuto’s light, a person easily glossed over, and he preferred it that way. Hiding in the dark is what he does best. Even singing a solo or doing something by himself only meant that the spotlight was on him – he’d never be able to shine on his own.

Maybe that’s why Nekomata gave him a duet part rather than a solo.

“You looked like you were having fun,” Tooru says more loudly this time as he pulls back. “It kind of made me envious. I’m not going to lose to you, you know!”

“I don’t expect you to,” Keiji says and his voice sounds strangely breathless. He’s seen Tooru sing a solo once before and it literally made him forget how to breathe – he can’t begin to imagine what it’d be like seeing that up close. In a group setting you always have to hold yourself back a bit to not disrupt everyone’s harmony, but if he’s let loose, made to show off what he’s best at …

No, there’s no way Keiji could ever beat him.

There’s something lighting up in Tooru’s eyes he can’t quite place, but he thinks it’s something good. It kind of makes him want to kiss him, so he does, it’s still somewhat baffling that he can just … _Do_ that but he’s slowly getting used to it.

Unlike the first kiss, this one is slow and soft and feels like it lasts forever and he clings to him like his life depends on it; sometimes it’s still unbelievable that any of this is actually happening but moments like this remind him that it is. Between their performance, his friends, his boyfriend, even his grades right now – he’s _happy_. Possibly the happiest he’s ever been.

Except, of course, for the drama that’s yet to come.

He freezes when he thinks about Bokuto and Yachi again and when they break their kiss, Tooru raises an eyebrow in question.

Keiji pulls a face and shakes his head. “I’ll just have to trust Terushima with Kuroo-san. It’s not something I like to do, but it is how it is.”

“You don’t like to trust Teru-chan because he’s Teru-chan or you don’t like to rely on other people?” It doesn’t sound much like a question – the answer of ‘both’ is already audible in his tone.

It’s true. Even if he relies on Tooru so much … He still thinks his number one concern is Terushima being Terushima though. _Please don’t turn this into an overblown TV sketch ... It’s about my best friend’s happiness, you know._

“It’ll be fine,” Tooru suggests in a tone he also doesn’t trust entirely.

“Please make an actual effort to talk with Yachi if she’s here.”

“I will, I will!” They let go of each other and start walking in what he hopes is the vague direction of the ice cream stand again. “ _If_ she’s here. I haven’t actually seen her yet.”

“Neither have I.” It’s a bit strange, though, for her not to come – perhaps she didn’t get a ticket in time? Even so, knowing that Mai is here, he kind of doubts that. She is really small, so maybe she just disappeared into the crowd.

“Not that it really matters … Whatever happens, happens. Hold on!” They stop in front of a building he’s never been in and Tooru points at a sign posted on the wall with an arrow on it showing where the ice cream stand is. It’s nowhere near the entrance. Sawamura either lied or has a weird understanding of the word.

“Why didn’t they put it where everything else is?” he mutters.

“No idea. They did that last year too, and it was in a completely different place to top it off.”

Sometimes Karasuno is a mystery to him, and not in the romanticised, intriguing way.

At least they know where to go now, and apparently a lot of other people did as well, because the stand is relatively packed. It seems to be run by fourth years and they have a decent selection – even slushies. He might get one of those.

In hindsight, he should have probably seen this coming, but he didn’t, so when his mother turns around just finishing the last remains of an ice cream cone and they spot each other he almost jumps in place.

“Kei-chi!”

The speed in which she walks over to him rivals Terushima on a good day and before he knows it he’s wrapped into yet another hug. At least hers isn’t bone-crushing and doesn’t push him right down to the ground.

“You were amazing! So much better than at Fukurodani! What are they teaching you? They’re doing something right! I mean, you’ve always sounded good to me, but you’ve improved so much! I cried!”

Hearing her say this is heart-warming but a little bit embarrassing in front of everyone at the stand, and glancing at Tooru shows he isn’t going to be of much help. He’s just kind of standing there next to him, staring blankly with a confused smile.

“Uh … Thank you,” he gets out somehow. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

She thankfully lets go of him, smiling as brightly as Mai and Tooru earlier combined. “I’m hoping you’ve improved this much with your instruments as well?”

Wow, that’s a bit discouraging. “I don’t know? I hope so.”

“Uhm, Keiji,” Tooru finally says, “care to introduce me?”

Oh right. Right. This is the whole ‘introducing your boyfriend to your mother’ ordeal he did not want to go through with in front of a relatively packed ice cream stand. Most people have turned back around to mind their own business, but this is still … Very public.

But he doesn’t really have a choice, does he?

“R-right. Tooru, this is my mother—”

“Call me Satsuki!”

“… Akaashi Satsuki, yes. Mom …” He had a script. He had it memorised. But it all went down so differently he’s completely forgotten most of it.

“Oikawa Tooru,” he gets interrupted by none other than the person he was just about to introduce, “Keiji’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you!”

Or they could do it like that. Fine. Whatever.

His mother shakes his hand enthusiastically and with a big smile. “Right, Kei-chi told me about you earlier! You better treat him right, or else.” Her laugh does little to take away from how threatening that sounds. “Say, do you like welcome parties? Or parties in general?”

“Oh, sure!” To anyone who doesn’t know him, Tooru would seem like he’s in complete control of the situation. Keiji, however, easily sees that that’s all a façade. His mother can be … Quite the overwhelming presence.

“That’s great! You have to come visit next time Kei-chi comes home. Not that he’s come home yet … Kei-chi, why haven’t you come home yet?”

“Because I didn’t have time. And please stop intimidating my boyfriend.”

“I’m not intimidated,” Tooru argues with an expression that screams ‘help me’.

“See? He’s not intimidated. We’ll get along just fine. Now should I buy you two some ice cream?” She’s still shaking his hand. It looks a little bit manic.

They never had much money – always enough, but never much more – so he always feels a bit strange accepting these favours from his mother, but he’s fairly certain she won’t actually let them say no. “Yes, thank you. I’d like a cherry slushie.”

“Chocolate ice cream! That’s very nice of you, Satsuki-san.” Keiji sends him a look that hopefully reads ‘don’t worry, it gets better past the introductory stage’.

“Drop the -san,” she says in a manner very similar to Tooru back then. It’s almost comical. “But alright, one cherry slushie and one scoop of chocolate, coming right up.” And with that she heads for the pretty long queue.

They stare after her for a few seconds until Tooru says, “You know, for how similar you two look, you really aren’t alike at all.”

“Not on the surface, no.” His mother, even though she doesn’t seem like it right away, is actually a very analytical and introspective person, just like Keiji. It’s just that she happens to be loud and social on top of it.

“She’s nice? A bit … Much, though.”

“She’s not always like this,” he reassures him. “She’s just excited. This is the first time we’ve seen each other since I left.”

“It’d be interesting to see her meet Shiida. Who I have to introduce you to still, by the way! I saw her somewhere in the corner when we were on stage.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He really is. What kind of person might Tooru’s sister be? He can’t wait to find out. There’s also Iwaizumi, who he already knows at least, and his boyfriend … And whoever else decides to show up.

“I have no idea where she is though, so that’s going to have to wait, I guess …” He stares in the direction they came from with narrowed eyes. “Seriously, where _is_ she? I know she’s here somewhere.”

“Call her?”

“Good idea!” He sounds like he didn’t think of that himself even once. “My phone’s back at the room though, so it’s got to wait.”

“We do still have time.” A lot of time, in fact. Considering how crowded the ice cream stand is, he assumes break has started by now – just how long did they take to get here? – but even after that they’ll still have to wait to go back on stage. Even though his most important part is done, he still can’t help but feel a bit giddy. _Reach_ is in the next bout, with their choreography …

“First, ice cream.” He has the right idea, but it’s going to take a while; the people in charge of the stand can’t exactly be called fast and the queue is pretty long. His mother is hard to miss though, bopping up and down in place. “Seriously, are you sure she’s okay?”

“Yes. She gets like this sometimes.”

Tooru glances at him and hums. “You know, you getting this excited would be cute.”

“Sorry, I can’t change who I am.” Keiji does get excited, of course, but he could never show it the way his mother can. Sometimes he envies her for it.

“I’m just kidding, kind of,” he says with a small laugh. “Althooough the mental image of you being this peppy is adorable.”

“I’ll leave that kind of attitude to you.”

“Is it adorable when I do it?”

“You’re asking a biased person.”

“So yes?”

Yes, absolutely, he’s always adorable, but for some reason Keiji feels like admitting that would equate to losing. “Sometimes.”

“Liar, liar,” Tooru sing-songs, “I’m always cute.”

“Why did you ask then?”

“I need validation, Keiji, a lot of it. Validation and milk bread.”

“Why? You should know by now that you’re amazing.” He almost doesn’t realise that he just did exactly what Tooru asked of him, but he thinks it doesn’t really matter; that’s what you have a relationship for, right? Love and appreciation?

“Just like that. You’re on the right track!”

Keiji shoots him a smile that’s supposed to look exasperated but probably just ends up looking fond. This is different from Bokuto constantly demanding compliments when he thought up a new song to play or that one time he had to scramble to list all the good points of a Fukurodani first year he hardly knew to make them stop crying. He finds he loves these playful little moments they have in which it doesn’t really matter if they’re together or friends or anything else.

They banter a bit more about nothing in particular, and standing around here waiting for someone else in the queue is a bit awkward but he doesn’t really mind it. Doing the same thing alone would be a different matter.

Eventually his mother _finally_ gets to order and the dark red slushie looks delicious, so he plunges right in, stopping for a moment to savour the sweet ice melt on his tongue. He hasn’t had something like this in too long – it’s heavenly.

He’s only half listening to the conversation Tooru and his mother strike up, but they seem to be getting along, which he appreciates. It’s much more comfortable now that everything’s a little calmer. Honestly, he doesn’t know what he would have done if his mother had disapproved – her opinion matters greatly to him, to the point where he absolutely would end up second-guessing all his choices if she told him to. Of course, he trusts his own judgement as well, and he sure as hell took long enough to get together with Tooru to consider it well thought out, but it’s still nice to have some reassurance from the person most important to him.

When he mentally tunes in to their conversation again (halfway through his slushie) he realises he has absolutely no clue what they were talking about.

“Nah,” his mother says with a serious expression, waving one of her hands around, “you can’t do that. Having one hamster with no company is animal abuse.”

“That’s what I said! But he won’t listen to me.” Tooru is gripping his ice cream cone so tightly he’s afraid he’ll break it. “The poor thing looks miserable on all the photos he sends me. Sometimes I just wanna go there and take it away from him. But we can’t have pets in the dorms, so …”

“Kei-chi.” When his mother turns to him, she looks a bit like when she told him she wouldn’t accept his teachers giving them too much homework over break and would, if need be, take legal actions. “You have to take this hamster. And another one so it won’t be lonely.”

“Pets aren’t allowed in my apartment complex either,” he manages to say.

“Oh, come on, Rantarou’s gonna make an exception for you. He still owes me a favour.”

“He already paid that off by letting me live there without paying rent.” His uncle is a good man, but usually rather strict when it comes to his own policies. No way he’ll allow even the smallest pet. Which, to be quite honest, is very convenient to him right now, as he assumes _I don’t have the time or motivation to care for hamsters_ won’t fly as an argument with these two. They’ve formed a powerful alliance in no time flat.

“Well, then give it to one of your friends! Yuuji-kun is a bit like a hamster, right?”

“Uh, you’ll have to ask him about that— What hamster are we even talking about?”

“Weren’t you listening?” _No, mom, sorry, I was not._

“A friend from high school,” Tooru jumps in, “he’s got this hamster but he doesn’t understand that they get sick and lonely when they don’t have a friend. It’s terrible.”

This is his life. His mother and boyfriend founding a Tooru’s Friend’s Hamster Protection Squad. This is what it has come to.

“Uhm, I suppose you can ask Terushima. But wouldn’t taking a pet from someone without their permission be—”

“You can’t worry about doing something illegal when a life is at the stake,” Tooru says and his mother nods in agreement.

“I … I suppose.” Well, he doesn’t _support_ this hamster living in terrible conditions, but he fails to see where it’s his problem. Tooru’s, maybe. Does that make it Keiji’s by association? “But we should probably head back? We don’t know when Nekomata-san is going to start warming up again but he did say we should be there by the time break is over.”

“Fine, but don’t think this is over.” Tooru waves at his mother and she honest to god finger-guns at him. Maybe Terushima wasn’t the person he should have been worried about when it came to meeting her.

“Come visit soon, Kei-chi, Tooru-kun!” she says, waving excessively as they leave.

“You bet! We need to get the e-piano anyway.”

“That was Terushima’s job though, not yours,” Keiji corrects.

“Well, I can just come along. Since we wanted to do that welcome party and all …”

Yes, he underestimated this. And he really should have stuck to the script.

It’s nice.

“Seriously though, we need to help that poor hamster.” Tooru looks awfully serious about this, which makes him wonder just how terrible that hamster must truly feel. Why would you even be friends with someone who treats an animal so poorly?

“First of all we need to finish this concert. But then maybe.”

“I’m not accepting a maybe! If you won’t help me, I’ll do it on my own.”

“Again, I don’t know how much I can help you in the first place—” He stops and looks around, suddenly realising something. This is a part of campus he never had any need to go to. “Uhm … How do we get back?”

 

* * *

 

The time it took them to find their way back to the rehearsal room best remains undocumented. Tooru in particular has no excuse, he _lives_ here, but if his words of ‘I know exactly where to go’ hold any truth to them, he has an odd way of showing it. Keiji’s pretty sure he’s seen the entirety of campus now, and campus is big.

Somehow they make it just in time to rush through the door before Nekomata does, and as they pass by him he gives them a judgemental glance they barely pay attention to. Everyone else is already here.

Nekomata doesn’t say anything about their performance, not yet, but he’s sure he’s going to next rehearsal. For now they need to focus on what’s to come. Honestly, Keiji doubts many things can go wrong now – though that thought is exactly what puts him back on edge. He can’t let himself get too optimistic. It’s only time to celebrate when they’re done.

It’s as boring as it sounds, they just warm up their voices once more before being told to dress up for the next batch of songs.

This one has them in casual clothes, though they’ve been told to go for bright colours. Keiji doesn’t have a lot of those in his closet so he ended up having to borrow something from Bokuto; it’s an old t-shirt he grew out of, bright red with a print of a tree on it. Even though it’s too small for Bokuto now, it’s a bit too big for Keiji, but that’s kind of comfortable, he thinks.

Honestly, this get-up is a little bit too … Neon for _Reach_ , but the song is about doing your best with the help of others, so he supposes it fits anyway. It’s as obnoxious as _A Song I’d Like To Sing_ , that’s for sure.

He doesn’t find himself talking to anyone, instead opts for leaving the room and listening to the orchestra play. They’re as phenomenal as they were the first time he heard them, as is to be expected. He doubts he could even make it in if he tried.

Even so, he can’t focus on what they’re playing. It’s more background noise than anything now that his nervousness is slowly creeping up again and _seriously_ , he’d really appreciate if this emotional rollercoaster could leave him alone for a bit. It’s always the same damn thing. He’s almost too annoyed at it to let it bother him.

It’s only when it’s their turn to go back on stage that the feeling fades and makes space for something brighter, just like before. His turn in the spotlight may be over, but now it’s time to support everyone, which is its own kind of exhilarating. Keiji has always been the one in the background, after all.

To be completely honest … Not much else noteworthy happens. They’re practiced so much they’ve fallen into a routine even when they’re showing what they hope to be their best. Even the choreography for _Diminutive Attention_ ends without anyone messing up like before. He can’t entirely process the whole thing before it’s over.

There’s not much space in between their next batches and he takes that time to sternly remind himself (and Terushima) of a certain point they tend to mess up a lot in practice, and it seems to have worked as that, too, works flawlessly. And then, just like that, that’s it.

He’s feeling somewhat disoriented looking out into the applauding audience, finding his mother in one of the corner seats with Bokuto next to her. Both of them are waving. It’s a bit embarrassing, just like Keiji’s own stupid smile.

It’s not a haze, not quite, more like … Entering another world that’s parallel to your own. The stage is a dimension that runs on a slightly different timeline. He’s always known that, but he’s never felt it quite like this.

Back at Fukurodani, they’d always do a final number with everyone involved at these joined concerts. That isn’t the case here – perhaps because aligning the rehearsal times is difficult. They don’t really have any encore either, so they’re just all ushered onto the stage that suddenly feels a lot smaller now that everyone is standing up here for a final bow.

He doesn’t know what time it is. Maybe it’s dark outside by now or maybe not. Maybe they’ve spent hours on here or maybe it’s been seconds.

In the rehearsal room, he doesn’t know what he expected but it should probably have been this. Some people are chatting, congratulating the soloists, but most are hurrying outside to greet their family and friends.

_Family and friends._

He hears Terushima crack his knuckles next to him and suddenly regrets everything that led up to this moment.

“Alright, Operation Let’s Get Bokuto And Kuroo Together, start!” He sounds like he’s enjoying this far too much.

“You do realise my best friend’s happiness is on the line, right? Please don’t do anything rash.”

Mai sighs and shakes her head. It’s been in a ponytail on stage, but now it’s open and whirling around with the motion. It looks pretty fluffy. “You’re talking to Teru-kun.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Terushima reassures them and winks at them, which does nothing to make him trust him. “Kuroo and I planned this all out! ‘kaash, I need your help getting Bokuto to the birdcage.”

“The … Don’t you think that’s a little bit too much?” He was supposed to make Bokuto jealous, not confess his undying love to Kuroo. Does Futakuchi know about this? Heck, he’s probably in on the whole thing.

“Don’t worry,” he repeats again. “I’ve got it aaaall under control!”

Well, if nothing else it means he has a very convenient excuse to get Mai away from Tooru so he can look for Yachi. Now he only has to hope they won’t run into her by accident. “Uhm, Mai, I think I’m going to need your help for this one.”

“Got it!” She gives him a thumbs-up he trusts marginally more than Terushima in his entirety, but what he does not trust is his luck. Or fate. Or anything, really.

But Terushima is right, unfortunately. Operation Let’s Get Bokuto And Kuroo Together was planned to start here. He can only hope the plan is just stupid enough to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> personally, I would not trust Terushima with anything this important unless it's volleyball-related


	44. from me to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been a long time coming, really.
> 
> as you may have noticed there's a final chapter count for this now! it's ... drumroll please ... 48! why 48? because that's my favourite number. :3c really it's just convenient it turned out to fit this perfectly. kinda wanna get it to 250k words now because 25 is my second favourite number but that's just utopian. but yeah, I'm really happy I made this 48 thing work, it's one of those weird things that mean a lot to me for no particular reason so aaa
> 
> my laptop crashed on me and I lost a bunch of this chapter. fortunately it was the part right after the break so it didn't make much of a difference. still annoying though.
> 
> thank you @ this chapter for finally giving me an opportunity to introduce you all to my favourite non-canon family member, Oikawa Shiida! I just really love the idea of a more mature Oikawa who sees right through you but is warmer and more motherly than Tooru. she's kind of what would happen if you gave Tooru a few more years and a child. I mean, he's already more mellow here than in canon because it's a non-competitive AU for the most part and what you need to be good at choir is very different from what you need to be good at volleyball (plus he's already been through most of his humbling experiences) but he's still Tooru so
> 
> the title in this one is uuuuh ... a Cassiopeia song? sure why not. I just like the sound of it. almost named it "from me to you, too" but then I realised that would have been a Danganronpa reference and the only song title I'm gonna steal here is A Song I'd Like To Sing--

No matter how dire the situation, if he’s in the immediate vicinity, actually _finding_ Bokuto is never much of an issue.

Though Keiji can’t really say he found him per se, it’s rather the other way around, Bokuto found him, before he even knew what was happening he heard a loud “Akaaaaaashi!” yelled in his direction and that’s how he got himself into _this_ predicament.

For the second time this evening, he’s lying on the floor after being tackle-hugged by one of his best friends, but this time it hurts more because the floor is concrete and there’s no other person softening his fall. He could barely make a few steps out of the rehearsal room before he got assaulted by one very excited Bokuto Koutarou.

He doesn’t mind though. This was all part of the plan. To make it work, he needs to actually be with Bokuto, and this is much easier than looking for him all over the place. He can take a few scratches and a hurting elbow.

“Sorry! I was just! Really excited!” Bokuto sounds out of breath, which is an unusual occurrence. He must have bolted over here at record speed. “You guys were so cool! You and Terushima and Oikawa and Sawamura and Mai and everyone! You have a competition soon, right? You’re totally gonna win!!”

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” Keiji says with a smile. This sort of enthusiasm is contagious, as always. When he stands up – after inspecting if he has any serious injuries – he shakes his head and glances over to where Terushima just disappeared into the evening.

“Hey, Bokuto-san!” Mai calls and pops up next to Keiji to high-five Bokuto.

“Your duet was so great! I wanted to tell you during break but I couldn’t find you?”

“Well, we have all the time in the world now.” Judging by her tone, Mai is having a bit too much fun with this already. “How about we go over and get something to eat? I think there’s a stand near the birdcage.”

There is not, in fact, a stand near the birdcage. They should have really talked about this beforehand instead of improvising some sort of storyline.

Bokuto cocks his head. If this was a cartoon, there’d be a question mark next to his face; sometimes Keiji thinks that he can see it even though he’s not. Bokuto defies the laws of reality. “Huh? I was there earlier and I didn’t see anything.”

“N-no,” Keiji steps in, resisting the urge to glare at Mai, “I’m certain I saw it too. Maybe you just missed it.”

Curse her and her improvisations! Here he thought Terushima was going to be the biggest problem.

“I guess it’s true then.” Bokuto doesn’t sound too convinced though. Damn it, does he have to show his perceptive side now of all times?

“Or maybe we just mixed it up … Let’s just go and check.” Alright, he saved it somehow. He’s already near a heart attack, but he has to remain calm. Remain calm. _Remain calm_.

“Fine! Let’s go then, I’m _starving_.”

Oh, Keiji is too. Maybe they can go and actually get something to eat on their way back.

Mai leads them, so he has no chance to whisper a few last exchanges about their situation. Trusting her so blindly feels like a disaster in progress but he has no choice, this is what it all boils down to.

In the end, it’s simple. All they need to do is make Bokuto see Kuroo and Terushima in an unambiguously romantic condition. If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that his best friend is the type who feels rather than thinks. By all accounts, no matter how stupid this whole plan sounds to him now that they’re actually carrying it out, it’s the best way to reach a conclusion.

Now, this could go several ways. Case A, Bokuto realises his feelings for Kuroo and they can get together; no problem. Case B, Bokuto realises he feels nothing but friendship for Kuroo and the latter will be sad but they’ll finally have a conclusion; unfortunate but still an understandable outcome. Case C, Terushima gets too into it, Futakuchi will be hurt, they’ll break up, Kuroo realises he was in love with Terushima all along – wait, that’s a bit too outlandish. Right?

He glances at Mai but she’s looking forward, humming a tiny song. When he speeds up to hear which one it is, it’s _A Song I’d Like To Sing_ because of course it is, he hopes that’s not a bad omen.

The birdcage isn’t all that far from here but today it feels like it simultaneously takes too long to get there and gives him too little time to prepare. Prepare for what, exactly? He doesn’t know. He’s just here to get Bokuto from A to B and keep Mai away from Yachi until Tooru’s done talking to her – provided he finds her. They should have probably agreed on calling each other at that point.

Actually, there’s a lot of things he should have talked about with a lot of people.

Either way, that’s all in the past now. They arrive at the birdcage and for a second he thinks that either Terushima and Kuroo ditched them to do their own thing because there’s absolutely nobody here.

That is until he looks up a bit and sees Kuroo sitting on the swing talking to an oddly concerned looking Terushima. That’s … Not how he imagined it to be. He thought they’d be, like, hugging or kissing or showing _some_ form of physical affection.

“Oh,” he hears Bokuto say. “Tetsu is here. I guess we should go then …”

“No, no, _no_ ,” Mai shuts him down, whirls around, and grabs Keiji’s arm, dragging his hand to Bokuto’s in a notion of ‘make sure he won’t run away’. As soon as he has a semi-strong grip on Bokuto’s wrist, she hurries up the hill.

This wasn’t how it was planned. What’s going on?

They’re talking too quietly for Keiji to hear from down here and when he looks at Bokuto, confusion is written all over his face. That makes two of them. “Uh, Akaashi, what’s going on?”

Should he say something? This clearly isn’t going according to plan, but if Mai can fix it somehow, he’ll ruin it if he comes clean. “I’m not sure,” he says instead. It’s not a lie.

Terushima, obviously getting chewed out by Mai right now, is gesticulating wildly while Kuroo is just kind of still sitting there. He can’t tell his expression – if he could, maybe he’d understand what’s happening.

Did one of them chicken out? Is Kuroo not feeling well? Or did they not have enough time to prepare? But Terushima said they talked about it all, he said they had something stupid and cheesy planned and that it wouldn’t be an issue—

“I can’t do it, okay?!” Kuroo suddenly shouts.

Involuntarily, Keiji takes a few steps forward, dragging Bokuto along.

“I can’t do this! I can’t pretend this is a thing, I know it’s supposed to be all for the greater good and a happy ending and whatever but I _can’t_!”

He doesn’t know Kuroo very well. In fact, he hardly knows him at all. But Keiji wouldn’t have taken him for the kind of person to explode like this.

“Kuroo-san—” Mai starts but is interrupted by him once more.

“This is stupid. Why are you trying to force it? Why do you care? Kou isn’t gonna love me back because of jealousy or whatever, he just doesn’t like me like that, I get it, I _get it_.”

Why do … They care?

Because Bokuto is his best friend. Because he knows, somehow, he just _knows_ that this isn’t all there is to it. Because he can’t stand seeing him sad. Because he wants them to have a conclusion, any conclusion, so they can move on and stand being around each other again. Because Keiji is happy but he can’t be as happy as possible if Bokuto isn’t either.

He’s selfish like that.

“Don’t be an idiot, Kuroo-san,” he says and four heads turn to him. He didn’t even notice that he’s almost scaled the hill by now so he’s well within speaking distance. “If you just listened instead of jumping to conclusions, none of this would have happened in the first place. ‘Give it time’ isn’t a rejection. If you really love Bokuto-san so much, maybe do more than randomly kiss him out of nowhere and have one or two short conversations with him. It’s not a bad thing to take your time and try and figure out your feelings for someone. Do you want to jump straight into a relationship where one half doesn’t know if their heart is in it? You’re just as confused as Bokuto-san. The reason we’re doing this is because you don’t know how to do _anything_ other than complain to others and back down at a moment’s notice.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Terushima mutters, probably hoping Keiji doesn’t catch it, but he does.

“Unlike _some_ people,” he starts again, staring at Kuroo, “I did do my fair share of overthinking but at least I arrived at a conclusion. If nothing else, my mistakes are ones others shouldn’t repeat. Especially as Tooru’s friend, you should know better. Of course every relationship starts differently. Tooru and I aren’t you. Neither are you and Futakuchi, Terushima, or Mai and Yachi-san.”

Mai’s light gasp tells him he probably should not have said that but heck, he’s here now, might as well.

“So stand the hell up for yourself, tell Bokuto-san how you feel for real this time, and everything will work itself out, but just do _something_. Because if you don’t, frankly, you don’t deserve him.”

The following silence is deafening.

He’s vaguely aware that’s he’s clutching Bokuto’s wrist a little too tightly now, and judging by the others’ pale faces his expression must be at least some shade of terrifying. Kuroo’s mouth is open but no words are coming out, Terushima is staring at the ground like he doesn’t want to be here, and Mai has a hand over his mouth, visibly shocked. Keiji doesn’t know what Bokuto looks like right now, in fact he’s not sure he ever wants to know – he just spoke without regard for anyone’s feelings but his own and it may have destroyed everything.

And yet …

Bokuto is the first one to talk.

“Uh … Uh. I still don’t really understand what’s going on.”

“Yeah, you kinda lost me halfway through, ‘kaash,” Terushima adds quietly.

Kuroo breathes in, stops, shakes his head, and tries again. “There was. A plan … To make you jealous. And realise your feelings for me or whatever,” he explains surprisingly matter-of-factly. “It was stupid. I just went along with it because I thought it was better than nothing.”

“Why?” Bokuto asks and it’s a genuine question.

He glances at Keiji as if he had anything to tell him, but Keiji is all out of words and Kuroo has to handle the situation on his own now. “Because … I’m in love with you. Fuck, I _love_ you. You’re a goddamn idiot but you make my life so much brighter and I can’t imagine it without you anymore. So when you gave me that half-assed answer I just kind of … I don’t know.”

“Snapped?” Bokuto suggests and Kuroo nods. “I mean, duh! What was I supposed to say? I never even thought that you’d like me like that until you kissed me!”

Kuroo winces and looks away.

“But, y’know …” Suddenly Bokuto’s voice grows softer. It’s a sound he’s not used to – even in heart-to-hearts, he’s usually loud and direct and confident. When Keiji finally turns to look at him, he’s tapping the tips of his index fingers together in a steady rhythm like someone about to nervously ask someone out for prom who doesn’t know what else to do with their hands. “I’ve done a lot of thinking recently. And I still don’t really have any idea what I think of this. I mean, you’re super important to me and the last thing I want is to lose you. So I’m not sure if that’s because you’re my best friend or because I’m in love with you or something else.”

It’s the same thing he said to Keiji when this first came up. He’s likely been overthinking. That’s the whole reason they wanted to do something this straightforward.

“But!” he shouts and steps forward, freeing himself from Keiji’s grip rather easily and placing his hands on Kuroo’s shoulders. “But if thinking about it doesn’t help, I guess all we can do is try it out! And if it’s not for us, we can still be friends. Right?”

The last word sounds almost pleading. It’s kind of a guilt-trip, Keiji assumes, but seeing Bokuto like this makes him a little bit more confident about this.

He wouldn’t propose it if he didn’t think it could work.

Kuroo stares up at him, blinking. “Wait, so you’re saying … You wanna actually …”

“Try this boyfriend thing, yup. I mean, I can definitely imagine worse things. You’re still Tetsu, no matter what you are to me. And like, I didn’t _mind_ you kissing me, just warn me next time. So!”

Kuroo finally stands up to fall straight into Bokuto’s arms and suddenly he’s very aware that he and his two friends are awkward bystanders right now. Should they just … Leave? Leaving sounds like the sensible option.

His eyes meet Terushima’s and they nod at each other, deciding the same thing.

Making as little of a fuss as possible, they head down the hill. Keiji feels strangely accomplished. If he hadn’t said all those things to Kuroo, they might still be hopeless.

“You sure they’re gonna be okay?” Terushima asks once they’re out of hearing range and Keiji shakes his head.

“I have no idea. It’s Bokuto-san. Anything could happen.”

He’s not so sure about Kuroo – maybe Tooru has a better idea, or even Sawamura. Or Shimizu, though he doesn’t have much to do with her. In the end, he supposes it doesn’t really matter. Whatever happens happens. That’s not in their power.

It does trouble him a bit to leave them alone right now, but they’ve done their part, the intended one or no. That’s all there is to it.

“But man, I went through all the trouble of scripting something and memorising my lines and stuff …” Terushima grumbles. “It really wasn’t my fault though, Mai!”

She doesn’t say anything. When Keiji turns to look at her, she’s staring straight at him, eyes still wide in disbelief but strangely calm.

Her voice sound similar when she asks, “How … How do you know Hitoka’s last name? Oikawa-san didn’t tell you, right?”

He could lie. He could easily say that yes, Tooru did indeed tell him – which he didn’t – and everything would be fine. But him knowing her will come out sooner or later. In truth, he should have told her long ago.

“She’s working at the music store I frequent. She only recently moved here. We didn’t talk much, but I do know her now. She mentioned you and we realised we both know you.”

Mai doesn’t take long to understand what that means. “If Hitoka moved here, and she knows we’re both in the choir, that means she’s here.”

“Probably,” Keiji admits. He wants to avert his eyes but that’d make him look even more guilty, so he keeps looking at her. “I don’t know for certain, but it’s likely. Tooru’s looking for her too. To apologise for everything, and …”

“I see,” she says. It sounds pained, as if she doesn’t want to admit this is happening.

“I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. I wanted to avoid drama.” That’s the truth at least, and he doubts it’s something he can truly be held responsible for. They all know how strained this entire relationship is.

“That’s not it.” Mai looks down, hands balled to fists on her sides, eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to see her.”

It’s not true. It couldn’t be more obvious that it’s not true.

“Uh, I don’t really know what this is about, but if you know this person, why _don’t_ you wanna see her?” Terushima looks at Mai with raised eyebrows. Now Keiji feels somewhat bad he didn’t even tell him. But the fewer people are involved in this, the better.

He raises a good point though. Keiji assumed Mai and Yachi were friends. Heck, that was the whole reason she hates Tooru, wasn’t it? Why is she suddenly acting like this? If anything, she should be happy to see her again.

“Because,” she starts and shakes her head to start over. “Because! Because seeing her is just going to hurt, because it’s bad enough already that I couldn’t help her when she needed it most, because I’m done with this. I want to protect her, as her friend and as her senpai, and I’m sure as hell not going to ever forgive Oikawa-san, but that’s all in the past now. I’m not a high schooler anymore. This is over.”

“Is it really?”

It’s only when she looks up at him that he realises he’s said it out loud. “What?”

“I mean, if that’s really what you think, I can’t change your mind. But this is clearly still bothering you. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t hate Tooru this much.” It takes a surprising amount of effort to not shout at her to finally get it together, have a proper conversation, and get over it, but he knows that Mai is nothing if not stubborn and would probably just close up if he did that.

“Is this another lecture?” Terushima asks with a somewhat scared smile. “Please don’t do that again. You’re scary when talk a lot.”

“Why, thank you,” he mutters under his breath. Louder, he adds, “All I’m saying is that you were the one who wanted to give Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san a conclusion and yet you’re here, running away from your own one.”

Well, that’s what he assumes anyway. Despite everything, there’s still a lot about this situation he doesn’t get. He couldn’t honestly say that he knows what’s going on – he wasn’t there, all he has is other people’s descriptions of what happened. Still, anyone could see that this is not over.

Mai looks at him for a long time, so long he almost thinks this conversation is over, until she finally says, ever so quietly, “So what? I know you want everyone to get along, but this has nothing to do with you.”

“You’re my friend.” This isn’t all that different from Bokuto. In the end, it always comes down to a simple thing. “I don’t want you to be hurt. If you talk to her, the chance is high that you can be close again. You’ll run into her sooner or later anyway if you want to continue playing the flute. Do you want that?”

“Wait, the flute?” Terushima stares at Mai, then Keiji, then Mai again. “Why am I the only one out of the loop here?”

“Great, now you’ve ruined that surprise too,” she mutters.

“Ruined surprises are really the least of our worries right now.”

“ _Our_ worries?” Mai suddenly shouts. “Stop pretending you have anything to do with this! You don’t! I’ve thought long and hard about this, trust me, and this is the conclusion I’ve come to so don’t _fucking_ mess with it!”

Terushima gestures for them to quiet down, but it doesn’t help much. Keiji knows there’s people around. He doesn’t care. “Yachi-san seemed very excited to hear about you. She clearly doesn’t hate you or anything, so what’s the big deal?”

“At this rate I’ll never get over her.” There are tears in her eyes now, tears of anger more than anything, and she’s breathing heavily. “Not everyone here is gonna get a picture-perfect relationship, _Aka-kun_. And I can’t just look back on everything and decide that being friends won’t hurt. It’s hurt for too long.”

“And it’s going to keep hurting if you don’t tell her.” He’s trying his hardest to keep his voice low, but he really just wants to shout at this rate.

“I already know she’s not in love with me! She’s with someone else! Confessing won’t do anything!”

“How do you even know that?”

“I was there for it last year, you know.” The angry look on her face transforms into something more pained, and all of a sudden he wants to hug her but he’s also kind of mad at her right now. “After everything. It’s a girl from another school. They’re perfect for each other. Someone like me could never compare.”

“So you’ll hurt the person you love by not even saying hello even though she knows you’re here? That’s cruel, Mai.” If Yachi is really with someone else, fine, but she still considers Mai a good friend. It’s like back when he and Bokuto weren’t talking to each other properly. Though that was mostly his own fault.

Her hands are balled to fists when she shakes her head and laughs humourlessly. “I never claimed to be a nice person.”

And with that, she turns around and leaves.

Keiji is frozen in place. He wants to run after her, but his legs won’t move – Terushima acts faster, follows her while muttering something that sounds vaguely like “don’t do this right now” but neither of them turn back around.

If anyone he knows is watching, they don’t say anything.

 

* * *

 

Usually when he doesn’t know where else to go he ends up in their rehearsal room, but there’s still people there. He doesn’t really want to see his mother either, wherever she may be right now, and Bokuto and Kuroo are off doing their own thing, so Keiji ends up wandering around aimlessly.

He feels terrible.

Of course he does. He lashed out at Mai without even trying to understand how she feels and now everything has kind of gone down the drain. Maybe he should have gone after her, but he doesn’t know what he could possibly say.

He’s alone, entirely alone for the first time in a while, and it’s shockingly painful.

Somehow he finds himself in the library, at the same staircase where he met Iwaizumi. That guy, too, is here somewhere, probably talking to friends or his boyfriend. Tooru always says that he’s the kind of person who will chew you out for being an idiot, which he feels he really needs right now, even though they’re barely even acquainted.

Keiji looks up at the staircase, hoping for god knows what, and suddenly his heart skips a beat.

There is actually a person here, seeing him all moping and worn down, but that’s not the reason he’s shocked. It’s that the woman descending is looking straight at him with a scarily knowing smile. She immediately reminds him of Tooru in more than one way – her long, brown hair, her tall figure, her aura of confidence. The glasses she’s wearing are similar to Tooru’s too.

“Ah,” she says, sounding not surprised in the least. “Hello.”

Somehow he feels like it’s not a coincidence. In fact, she gives him the vibe of someone who would absolutely follow someone else and not start a conversation until the right moment to be dramatic offers itself. Kind of like Tooru.

“Akaashi Keiji, was it?” Her smile tells him he doesn’t actually need to answer.

“Unfortunately,” he says anyway.

“I’m Oikawa Shiida. You’re taking good care of my little brother, right?”

Yeah, he’s not surprised. He’d have doubted her if she _hadn’t_ said that. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Good things, I hope.” She laughs, loud and clear. Looking at her like this, it’s easy to see why Tooru looks up to her so much – she has this kind of motherly fighting spirit about her, the one that makes you want to befriend her but never, ever get in her way. “You’re not looking too good, though. Did something happen with Mai? I saw her walk away after talking to you.”

“You know her?” he ends up asking instead of answering the question.

“Oh, well, Hitoka told me about her when you two had your duet.”

 _Hitoka._ So she is here. Of course she is. “Is that so,” he forces out.

“I think Toorun’s talking to her right now, so I kind of ended up just walking around campus. And that’s when I spotted you and thought, ‘hey, isn’t that Toorun’s boyfriend?’ Turns out I was right. But he’s such a sad sap now.” She honest to god pouts and he’s starting to understand where Tooru got that from. This way she looks a good ten years younger. Scratch that about motherly fighting spirit.

He can’t argue with her words though. All he can do is hope things won’t get worse. To be honest, he kind of meant to accidentally walk in on Tooru and Yachi’s conversation and eavesdrop, but his mood has sank so low he wouldn’t do it even if he had the opportunity presented to him on a silver platter. “I’m sorry I’m not living up to your expectations.”

“Ah, expectations, yadda-yadda, you know what a sad sap like you needs?” Okay, he’d really appreciate if she stopped calling him that now. “Ice cream. I’m treating you! Like a good sister-in-law-to-be.”

“It’s not that far yet,” he says but he doesn’t even have the energy to get embarrassed.

“Whatever, whatever, let’s just get you ice cream.”

“You don’t have to do that, Oikawa-san—”

“Just call me Shiida!” And with that she has his wrist in a death grip and he no more chance to complain.

And that’s how he ends up getting treated to ice cream for the second time this evening.

It’s kind of amazing how quickly Shiida can find the ice cream stand, considering how long it took him and Tooru. Maybe she’s been here before or maybe she just has a built-in snack sensor; she strikes him as the kind of person who would.

So eventually they find an empty bench to sit on, both with an ice cream cone in their hands – his vanilla, hers chocolate just like Tooru’s – and it’s somehow less awkward than he would have initially assumed. Shiida reminds him a little of a mix between his mother and her brother, though more mature despite some of the things she says.

She’s been going on about her son, Takeru, for a while now and he seems like a nice enough child. Her story isn’t that different from his mother’s, actually, with a father that left her when he found out she was pregnant and a child she does her best for nonetheless. Sometimes she’ll mention the piano and get a melancholic look on her face before shaking her head and switching topics. Keiji doesn’t need to talk much, which he appreciates, but he gets to listen to something unrelated to what’s been going on, which he appreciates even more.

“So, you know, Takeru’s been wanting to play an instrument for a while now but I don’t think the piano is quite for him … He seems to like the saxophone, but that’s so big. Do you have experience with that?”

“Not really.” He doesn’t even know anyone who does. Well, there’s certainly people here, but … “As long as it’s not the tuba.”

She snorts. “Yeah, right. He’s so small still. Imagine an eight year old with a fully grown tuba.”

She says that as if tubas are something you just grow on a tree. That’d make for one very sturdy tree though. The thought of it makes him laugh a little.

“See, see?” Suddenly her voice turns softer and when he looks at her, her eyes are, too. “That’s the face I want to see on my brother’s boyfriend. What did you say to Mai to make you both so sad?”

Even though it hurts to hear that, it’s not a slap in the face. He’s known this person for about half an hour now but he trusts her. It’s not something he’d usually do, and yet …

“I was an idiot,” he says, quietly, before he knows that he did. “First I hid from her that Yachi-san was here and then I tried to push my own viewpoint on her without considering her feelings. Of course she’d snap. I feel like … This entire time I haven’t been listening to her properly, even though she’s been nothing but supportive despite not liking Tooru. I was a terrible friend to her.”

He still believes she should face Yachi rather than run away, but he’s never heard her side of the story. Only Tooru’s. Getting involved in this was never his right.

Shiida hums, cocking her head. “I suppose, yes. That entire situation with Hitoka was unfortunate, but she holds no hard feelings anymore. That’s what she told me at least.”

“Did she?” She seemed like such a kind person when he talked to her, skittish but enthusiastic, always trying her best. It’s not surprising she’d want to look past it. If Tooru was anywhere near as important to her as she was to him, she’d want to forgive.

“Yes. I wasn’t there for a lot of it, I heard most of it from Hajime while it was happening, but Toorun always had a tendency to push himself too hard … And to lose sight of anything but his goal. He’s learned his lesson now, but in order to do so he really hurt her. I chewed him out for it too.” She laughs quietly. “That’s all in the past now though. Hitoka has a girlfriend she loves a lot, Toorun has you, and I really think he’s going to apologise this time around. He’s awfully stubborn, but he does have a heart.”

“I was hoping that if they made up, Mai could get over it too. I never factored in that Yachi-san might be in a relationship now. That’s why she doesn’t want to see her.” And yet, he really does hope that maybe someday, hearing from Yachi herself that she’s not mad anymore can warm her up to Tooru somehow. Their argument now only reminds Keiji how much she means to him, too.

“I suppose so. I mean, I don’t really know Mai from anything but stories. I never thought she was important to this whole thing until now.”

In many ways, she probably isn’t. She had nothing to do with it, either. She just happened to be the person who was in love with one of the ones who did.

Just like …

“We’re on complete opposite ends,” Keiji whispers. “Except they’re not opposite ends anymore. Because that is over. There’s no need for any of us to be fighting.”

Shiida smiles, knowingly, and uses her free hand to ruffle his hair.

He’s always thought Mai and Tooru are alike.

Maybe Keiji is more like them than he realises, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the circle of Keiji-Tooru-Mai. they're all similar in a lot of ways but also fundamentally different.


	45. Facing Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof I'm sorry this took so long, a lot of things happened, good and bad alike, and just when they were getting calmer again writer's block slapped me in the face. also I got really invested in Free! again with his season (swimming hell never ends) and my emotional attention has been split between Akaoi and Ikuhiyo (but like, 70/30, let's not kid ourselves here) so there were a lot of feelings and not much to do with them ANYWAY
> 
> this chapter gets better when you listen to the melancholic OST of your choice. I recommend Hibike! Euphonium. but you do you. it's one of those talking kind of chapters, as are a lot in this fic, I guess that's just the type of fic this is ...
> 
> half of this was written while I was trying to break through writer's block so the first part may feel awkward? idk I'm honestly just glad I'm done with it. the second half makes me really nostalgic though, calling back to the first chapter and all ... I can't believe it's almost over aaaAAA what am I gonna do once it is,,, I've been asking myself that for like 10 chapters now and I'm still not emotionally prepared tbh
> 
> the title ... is definitely a piano piece someday played sometime in this fic. I promise

It shouldn’t end this easily.

If this was a movie, there would be an emotional scene at the end of the concert, when Keiji, who has been looking all over the place for her, finally finds Mai and gets to apologise.

But it’s not a movie, and he doesn’t run into her at all.

No matter how many people he asks – not that he has many people to ask to begin with – it’s like she’s avoiding him. Actually, she probably is.

Night always falls too quickly in times like these, and before he knows it he’s on the train back home with his mother.

“Well, you look down,” she says in a tone that would sound nonchalant to anyone else but Keiji recognises as worried from many times before. “Something happen?”

“You could say so.” He refuses to look at her, instead opts for staring at the floor. It’s remarkably spotless for such an often used train. “I had … A fight.”

“Wait, with Tooru-kun?”

“No, not with Tooru,” he immediately shoots her down with raised hands. “With Mai … The friend I had the duet with.”

She blinks, as if thinking, before finally saying, “Oh. That’s surprising. You two seemed to be in synch.”

“A lot of things have happened.” Both recently and years ago. It’s a damage not easily undone and honestly, he’d rather not talk about it right now. He needs time to think – silence. “Speaking of Tooru though, you seem to like him. I’m glad.”

“Only if he helps that hamster!” She thankfully catches on with the change in topic, though he’s not surprised. She’s the one who knows him best, after all.

“Like I said, why is that hamster— Oh, just forget about it.”

“I was hoping we’d get to talk a bit more though,” she muses and looks out the window with a soft smile. “I have to leave tomorrow, so we probably won’t get another chance.”

“There was … A lot going on. I would have preferred it another way too, but something else took priority.”

The side glance she gives him speaks volumes. “Does it have to do with your fight?” So much for her catching on. Although, she probably knows what he’s going for, she just disagrees; she’s the kind of person who gathers her thoughts while speaking, whereas Keiji needs quiet time to think. Which also means he’s free to overthink. That must be the angle she’s going for.

He doesn’t particularly _like_ it, but he knows she’ll find a way to come back to it anyway, so he doesn’t have much of a choice. “Kind of. Tooru and Mai both have history with the same person. It got pretty bad. That’s why they don’t like each other. And that person was there at the concert so Tooru wanted to apologise.”

“Did he, then?”

“I don’t know,” Keiji mutters, turning his eyes away once more. “I hope so. I spoke with his sister, but so much was happening all at once that he didn’t even get a chance to talk with both of us. I was looking for Mai until it got too late and I picked you up.”

“Wow, what a great boyfriend you are,” she deadpans.

“I’ll call him later.” He does feel guilty about it, as he does about a lot of things. Maybe he should buy Tooru some milk bread to make up for it. He should buy everyone a lifetime supply of milk bread.

“Anyway, I still don’t really understand what that has to do with you.”

“It has nothing to do with me,” he says, and saying it out loud somehow makes it hurt more. “I happened to meet that person a while ago, so I knew she’d probably be there, and of course I don’t want them to suffer, but that’s it.”

She’s silent for a moment, so silent he assumes he’s said something wrong until she suddenly says, “You’ve changed a bit, Kei-chi.”

Her gaze feels scrutinising, like she’s looking for something to pinpoint. It’s unnerving in its own way – just how clearly she can see through him. “In … In a good way or a bad way?”

“It all depends on what you do with it.” And with a shrug, this conversation is apparently over.

It doesn’t take long until they arrive at their stop, and the entire way to his apartment those words are repeating in his head, over and over again. _You’ve changed a bit._

Has he?

When he opens the door and his mother steps inside, she lets out a huff that sounds somewhere between disapproving and not surprised. “You need to put up more decorations. All I can see is school stuff!”

“Because that’s what I need,” he argues, though knowing he’s already lost.

“I’ll send you some stuff once I get home.”

“You really don’t need to … I like it this way.”

“I know, I know, your room’s always looked like this …” She stops in the middle of the room and, not unlike several other people who have been here, looks around in confusion. “You don’t have a separate bedroom though, right? Where do you sleep?”

“You can build the couch into a—” He freezes.

God, he’s stupid. He’s a complete idiot. He _knew_ she was coming, he knew she was staying over the night, he knew he should have gotten an air mattress or a futon or anything like that because there is no way he’s sharing his bed with his mother, who has the annoying tendency to move around in her sleep so much she usually can’t even keep the pillow on the bed for a night. But he didn’t get any of that. He just – he just flat out forgot about it.

Should he just sleep on the floor? No way, that won’t work. This is a dilemma now.

“Kei-chi?”

“I forgot to get you a place to sleep,” he mutters, staring at the couch as if that could somehow duplicate it. What is he supposed to do?

No, wait, there’s a department store a few minutes away. He’s pretty sure they’re open 24/7, and they _should_ have something of the likes. All is not lost.

“Yeah … Kinda assumed that would happen.” He hates how she sounds exactly like she knew what was coming, but she didn’t bring anything along either so that also puts the blame on her. This goddamn family.

“I’ll go buy an air mattress or something. And a blanket …”

“You do that.” There’s an annoyingly patient smile on her face.

It’s not like he has much of a choice if he actually wants to sleep, which he really needs to after today. He should have enough money, and if all goes well he’ll be back in under half an hour. It’s not even midnight yet. He’ll manage.

So he’s out of the door and back on the street as quickly as he came in, with his phone in his hand displaying a map of the place because he’s only ever been to that store once and doesn’t trust his ability to find it again without that.

It’s kind of nice, walking along the quiet streets on your own with the night sky above you, but tonight he can’t see any stars, only the gloomy black of clouds obstructing his view. Even the moon is invisible, whether it’s the night of a new moon or it’s just hidden he’s not sure about, but it doesn’t matter in the first place. At least there’s enough lanterns here to light up his path.

He arrives at the store without much trouble and sure enough, it’s still open, although he doubts there are going to be any customers inside. That’s convenient, it’ll just mean he’ll be done faster.

That’s what he thinks, at least, until he actually goes inside and finds two very familiar faces talking to each other at a table right by the entrance.

Terushima spots him first, gaping at him before starting to laugh, and then Tooru turns his head too before joining in quietly.

Keiji has no idea what the hell is going on.

Why are Tooru and Terushima sitting together in a department store nowhere near where either of them live, and in the middle of the night? They’re not even close friends or anything. Even if they were, couldn’t they just have met up on campus if they really wanted to talk?

There’s a lot of questions on Keiji’s mind, but the thing that eventually comes out of his mouth is, “That’s an unusual pair.”

Terushima waves him over to join them, and he technically doesn’t have the time but he certainly won’t leave this situation until he knows what on earth is happening here, so he sits down on the chair next to Tooru and stares at the two of them expectantly.

Tooru seems to get the hint. “Teru-chan called me out here because he wanted to talk to me.”

“Why here, though?” Again, if they’d wanted to talk, they were on campus for an entire concert today.

“Because,” Terushima jumps in, “it’s right in the middle!”

“It’s not. ‘Right in the middle’ would be somewhere in the city centre. This isn’t even the same distance away from where the two of you live.”

Tooru sighs and shakes his head with a small smile. “It’s okay, Teru-chan, didn’t we say we wanted to be honest now? We’re here because Teru-chan was in the area looking for you.”

“I wasn’t _looking_ for him,” his friend argues adamantly. “I was just … Thinking I might run into him is all. And then I got lost. And _then_ I found this department store and thought, ‘hey, maybe Oikawa … Uh, Oikawa-san knows what to do’, and here we are now. And then you showed up, so it all worked out!”

“What to do about what?” He has a feeling and he doesn’t know if he likes it.

“About Mai, of course.” Something about how Tooru says that sounds wrong, and it takes him a few moments until he realises what it is. Just _Mai_ , not _Mai-chan_. Is that a good or a bad sign?

“Yeah, I was trying to understand what the heck was going on but she was totally out of it and eventually went to her room and told me to stop following her … But I had to do _something_ , y’know? This entire situation … I don’t really get it, but I don’t like it. I don’t like it when we argue, especially about someone else we have nothing to do with. We were supposed to be friends.”

“Friends argue sometimes,” Tooru muses in that tone he still can’t quite read. When he looks at him, his expression is completely neutral, not betraying a single thing. “I guess in the end this is all my fault, but everything’s fine on my end now, at least regarding Hitoka.”

“So you got to apologise?”

“Uh …” His calm mask switches to something more guilty-looking, but not in a way that sets him particularly on edge. Something about it seems like everything is alright; the playfulness in which his lips curve, perhaps, or the twist of his eyebrows. “Kind of? I was going to, but then she yelled at me that I shouldn’t apologise … And then she apologised for yelling at me. And then _I_ apologised for making her apologise— There were a bunch of apologies, but none for the actual thing I was meaning to apologise _for_ … I think we’re on good terms now, though? She gets along with Shiida and she said she’s very happy with her current girlfriend and that she has no hard feelings … Honestly, her niceness is going to get her killed someday. Although she’ll probably run away fast enough that it might not. Anyway, the most important part is that she said she wanted to talk to Mai.”

“Which she didn’t get a chance to because Mai doesn’t want to see her,” Terushima adds. “And now we’re here. I was hoping you’d maybe have some insight, ‘kaash, but when I was here walking around I realised that you were the whole reason we were in this mess in the first place, so probably not.”

He flinches at that statement, true as it is. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Tooru says.

“Nah, he can be sorry. Being sorry is the first step to getting better!” His friend smiles, and it’s so genuine he can’t help but feel like he has a point. Keiji definitely has to apologise to Mai, and now that they know Yachi does want to see her, maybe she’ll change her mind. They just have to be gentle about presenting it … And he has to stop getting too involved in things that aren’t his business. As well as making her realise that the same goes for her, maybe.

“There’s not much time,” he says quietly, trying to figure out what would be the right plan of action here. He’s been spending so much time overthinking and blaming himself that he hasn’t really come up with anything – actually, that’s true for a lot of things in his life right now. “The competition is coming up. Our duet is done, but when people are arguing it always throws off the entire balance. Mai is one of our best singers, I have no doubt she’s pulling all of the alto on more than one occasion.”

“Oh, absolutely, have you heard their section practice?” Tooru says with an unamused smile. “It’s ridiculous. Last year the alto was the weakest part and now they’re all just following Mai. We can’t afford to lose that if we want to win.”

Terushima frowns at them. “What kind of competition is it anyway? I mean, Nekomata-san said it was a small regional thing but then it’s at the Akagi and televised and all of that.”

“Oh, he lied,” Tooru states matter-of-factly. Somehow, Keiji isn’t surprised.

“Please specify,” he says anyway.

“Yes, it’s a regional competition, but it’s always a really big deal. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it earlier – well, not really with you, Keiji, but definitely with Teru-chan.” _Thanks._ He can’t argue with it, but still. “If you want to do this professionally in some way, you absolutely should go for it. I know a bunch of musical stars who were scouted there. That’s one of the reasons they want originals – they want to figure out who to invest in.”

“And I have a solo _and_ wrote a song,” Terushima whispers, staring into nothing for a second before his lips curve upward and his entire being lights up a little. “Man, that’s gonna be _awesome_!”

Keiji wishes he had his confidence.

“Why would Nekomata-san lie about that though?” he asks, intending for it to be more of a rhetorical question. He probably didn’t want the first years to freak out.

Tooru answers anyway. “I think he just wanted to see how seriously we’ll take rehearsal for it if we assume it’s not important.”

That … Makes even more sense, actually. Still, he’s surprised none of the senpai said anything – or maybe they did and he just doesn’t have much to do with them. Yes, it’s probably that. “Didn’t you do this last year?”

“Not that I’ve heard,” Terushima chimes in. “Unless everyone lied to me.”

“They didn’t lie, this is the first time in …” Tooru cocks his head and looks at the ceiling, thinking. “In seven years, I think? Our last director really didn’t like the idea. He was terrible, by the way, be grateful for Nekomata-sensei.”

“The one you yelled at?” Keiji asks and receives a sharp _shhhh_ in return.

“Anyway, I say we move over to ‘kaash’s place and make a game plan at a sleepover or something!” Terushima seems very excited about the idea, but he unfortunately(?) has to shut him down.

“Forget it. My mom is over, and—” Oh. Oh, right. There’s a reason he came here. “I have to buy something for her to sleep on.”

“You didn’t have that?” Tooru asks dryly as Keiji stands up to head for the actual store. He doesn’t have time to banter with him though, his mother is probably wondering where he is, or maybe she’s not, maybe she saw this coming, he wouldn’t put it past her.

“I’ll see you on Monday?” he says instead and Terushima gives him a thumbs-up while Tooru blows him a kiss – which he fans away with his hand, earning him a pout – and then he’s off to actually do the thing he was meaning to do.

Thankfully he finds what he’s looking for fairly quickly; it’s a pretty cheap futon but it’ll have to do, and he’s out of the store again in record speed, heaving it over his shoulder and probably looking ridiculous while doing so.

When he passes by the table, Terushima and Tooru are still sitting there talking, and he can’t help a little smile upon seeing them like this. With all the drama around Mai, it’s refreshing to see one of his best friends actually get along with his boyfriend, especially because they don’t talk much usually. Whether it’s a safe decision or not he still isn’t certain, but he trusts Terushima’s sense in people, which in return makes him a little hopeful that there’ll be a proper resolution.

But for now, time to carry this thing all the way back to his apartment.

 

* * *

 

His mother is laughing at him.

Of course she is. He must have looked absolutely ridiculous heaving this futon all the way up to his apartment. Still, this is for her benefit, so she could at least say thank you.

While he’s setting everything up and looking for at least a pillow and a blanket or something, she finally stops laughing and starts talking instead, which is marginally better. “You took a while, though. Something stop you?”

“I ran into Tooru and Terushima,” he replies, which, now that he says it out loud, sounds like a stupid coincidence.

“What, seriously? Talk about fate!” Or that. Whichever one you believe in. “Did you run into your other friend too?”

Wouldn’t that have been fun. “No, but we did talk about her.”

“It’s rude to talk about people behind their backs, Kei-chi.”

“We need to find out how to make this right again,” he argues and decides that this makeshift bed will have to do. He did at least have the foresight to buy a wool blanket recently, in case the prices shoot up once winter comes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just teasing. If you guys were all friends, it’s gonna be alright eventually.” Her voice drops a few pitches and suddenly sounds much more motherly and warm, reassuring. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, he appreciates it at least a little. It feels like it’s been ages ago that he lived with her, and though he doesn’t mind being on his own, sometimes he thinks he could use his mother’s calm and steadiness.

“Well, saying we were _all_ friends would be an exaggeration,” he says anyway, thinking of Tooru and Mai. “But maybe we can all be friends someday.”

“That’s a noble goal!”

Maybe she’s right about that. Even if it’s just that – a goal.

Even though he’s tired as all hell, they end up staying awake for longer than strictly necessary, with his mother telling him about what life is like now back at home without him. He’s mostly just listening, though he has a bunch of stories of his own to tell, and he’s not quite sure when he falls asleep, only knows that he dreams of a bunch of pointless things that don’t make sense in context or out of it.

Whether it’s comforting or not he doesn’t know.

 

* * *

 

“You know you don’t _have_ to see me off, right? I could have just hopped into the train and would have found my way just fine.” His mother is pouting, which reminds him of Tooru a lot. He really does wish they could have had more time for all three of them to talk, or perhaps all four if he counts Shiida – maybe someday.

“Are you kidding? This is the first time I’ve seen you in months, and I’m not letting that end with you getting lost in Karasuno.”

The train station is just as crowded as it was when he first came here. That feels like it’s been lifetimes ago, too; he only ever had to come here once when he first moved to Karasuno. From here on, his mother will take the same bus he took back then, just in the other direction, and then it’s goodbye once more.

It makes him a bit nostalgic, this place. He doesn’t have a lot of memories with it, but the one is striking – tired but happy, with Bokuto waiting for him and the following bone-crushing hug. He wouldn’t have thought that any of this would happen when he came here. Heck, he only signed up for studying, not joining a choir and getting caught in a love triangle that isn’t a love triangle.

Life works in mysterious ways, huh.

“So the bus station is …”

“Right outside.” They’re in the entrance hall right now, so it’s less than a five minute walk. It’s a nice place, actually, old but well-kept with its own unique charm. Not quite _grand_ , but a pleasant shade of antique. It makes the bakeries and fast food stores in here look out of place. “Just follow me.”

“No, no, _no way_.” She stops and turns around to hold up her hands in denial. “Forget it. You’re not setting a step out of this hall.”

Keiji raises an eyebrow at her. “Why … Why not?”

“Because,” she insists. “Because if you wave at me when I get on the bus, I’m definitely going to cry, and I’m not letting you see that.”

“Isn’t admitting that basically the same thing?”

“ _Shush._ ”

“You know, if you get lonely, maybe you should get a dog.” It must be difficult for her, too – Keiji has his friends and Tooru, but while his mother does get along with her colleagues and goes to see the family often, it must get quiet at home when nobody else is there. She’s more of an extrovert than he is, so he wouldn’t be surprised if she had a hard time dealing with it, even though she always insists it’s fine when they call and text.

“I’ve been thinking about that, actually. What kind of breed would you like?”

“Why does that matter? I’m living on my own.” Besides, all dogs are good dogs.

“Because I can’t decide.”

“Just adopt the dog that you feel an emotional connection to.”

She blinks at him as if she’d never even considered that. “You’re so wise, Kei-chi.”

“Isn’t that common sense?” he mutters, more to himself. Louder, he adds, “Anyway, when is your bus coming?”

“At half past— Wait, that’s in three minutes! I better get going!” Before he can say anything else, she has him wrapped in a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss you. You better make this Mai situation right so next time I visit we can all hang out together.”

Hanging out with his mother … In his friend group … Sure, why not. He’s pretty sure she fits in more than he does. “I’ll do my best. You take care of yourself, right?”

“Who’s the mother here?” She laughs and lets him go, and he might be imagining it, but he thinks he sees tears forming in her eyes. “I’ll call you once I get home.”

And with that, she’s off, hurrying toward the exit and waving at him as she’s leaving, until she’s disappeared completely.

This time was too short. He definitely has to invite her again when their schedules overlap, or maybe he can just come visit home spontaneously when he has a bit of free time.

He stands there for longer than is maybe necessary, and maybe this is the first time it’s all felt truly real, that he’s taken a step into a new life.

Eventually he does have to turn back around though, he still has homework to go over for tomorrow and he wanted to talk to Terushima about Mai. If he waits too long, he’s probably going to break into his apartment again, however the hell he’s consistently doing that still.

He heads for gate 5 and checks to see when his train is coming along the way – ten more minutes. He won’t even have to wait for too long. Convenient.

The gate isn’t as crowded as the rest of the station, looks like not a lot of people want to go in this direction today. He’ll have to switch trains halfway, but it doesn’t really matter. Maybe he won’t and will just play a bit at Karasuno before he heads home, although that’s probably counter-productive.

There’s a free seat on one of the benches, which is also convenient, so he sits down and pulls out his phone to have something to do while he’s waiting.

Nothing much is going on on the internet, it seems. Or, well, maybe he just doesn’t follow a lot of people on his social media sites. Tooru has uploaded a bunch of photos on Instagram, mostly study-related – Keiji wonders if that’s his way of staying motivated or if he just wants to brag about studying. Knowing him, it’s probably a mix of both. Aside from that, there’s not much else.

“Oh,” a voice says next to him and he freezes.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he looks up to see Mai standing there, hair open – that’s unusual – and a dark brown messenger bag slung over her shoulder. She looks about as caught aback as he is, and neither of them moves an inch.

“Good morning,” he somehow manages to say, but it sounds strained.

“Hey,” she replies, quietly.

This clearly is just a big coincidence, but he assumes it counts as a wink and nudge by life or fate or whatever the hell, so should he just run with it? Heck, who knows when he’ll get another chance.

He gestures for her to sit down next to him and she does, which is probably a success.

Keiji takes a deep breath, and then, slowly, he says, “I’m sorry. I was getting involved in things that weren’t my business.”

“Yeah,” she says and laughs humourlessly. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking something similar. About myself, I mean. But at the same time, Hitoka was my best friend. That means it is my business, somehow.”

“And Tooru is my boyfriend,” he says. “And you’re one of my best friends. We’re not that different in that regard.”

“I suppose.” She leans back and sighs, staring at the ceiling. “When you think about it that way, it really is stupid. Sorry for lashing out at you. And then running away so you wouldn’t talk to me. That was kind of a dick move.”

“There was a lot going on.”

They sit in silence for a while, and it’s not really comfortable but at least he doesn’t feel like it can’t be again someday.

There’s one thing he has to tell her, although he doesn’t know how she’ll receive it. Then again, this is Mai – there’s a reason why he likes her, and why he thinks she’s strong. And it wouldn’t be fair to Yachi to just not mention it.

“I met Tooru and Terushima last night,” he starts, eyes trained on the ground. “Tooru said he’d talked to Yachi-san, and that they’re alright now … And apparently Yachi-san said that she wanted to talk to you.”

Mai says nothing for a long time.

Then, just when he thought he’d messes up, she snorts. “I guess she would, huh.”

“Did she ever know?” he asks, even though he’s not entirely sure why. “That you were in love with her, I mean.”

“No idea,” she says and sighs with a bittersweet smile. “I mean, I never told her. I don’t know what would hurt more, though.”

Right when he’s about to say something else – he doesn’t know what, but something will surely come to mind – the train comes in and drowns out the voices of those waiting for it.

Mai stands up before him, and when she turns around to look at him again her smile has turned a bit more genuine. “We’re taking the same train, right? Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this looked really aesthetic in my head but idk if it comes across as that in word form hhh

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! ♥
> 
> shout with me about rarepairs (and choir AUs) on http://akaashi-tooru.tumblr.com/


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